Lost and Found
by Deliwiel
Summary: My take on what happens after the end of Defenders. There will be angst, hurt/comfort, and just some good ol' fashioned whump. Previously rated K, but now Rated T for my paranoia's sake
1. Chapter 1

_**Okaaaaay... first time venturing into a solo Daredevil fic (he's made a couple appearances in my Spider-Man stories) so I'm not sure if I got him down right.**_

 _ **So basically I was just minding my own business when I got my sister hooked on the show and she watched the Defenders and gave me an idea for a story. Plot bunnies started running wild and I couldn't contain them, so I'm sorry for others waiting for my MacGyver story. I promise, updates for that will be coming at a more scheduled rate now that I'm settled into my house and have this out of the way XD**_

 _ **Also as a warning, this does take place after the end of "The Defenders" so if you haven't seen that, be aware that SPOILERS LURK HERE. Actually they don't just lurk. They bounce and flourish and own this story :D**_

 ** _Anyway, more AN at the bottom._**

 ** _I don't own Daredevil :(_**

"Get Maggie. Tell her he's awake."

The voice sounded distant to Matt, echoey, like whoever was speaking was down a tunnel. He knew that wasn't true though, because he heard her heartbeat close by, and he felt the added weight by his legs. He tried to move, roll over, sit up, anything, but every movement made him hurt. With a soft moan, he gave up and let the sweet embrace of unconsciousness claim him again.

The next time he woke, it was someone different in the room with him. She smelled different; like lavender and vanilla, and her heart rate was slightly more elevated than the previous woman.

"You're alright," she whispered. Her hand moved and grabbed a rag, dipping it into a bowl of water. She squeezed the excess liquid out, and each drop that fell back into the bowl sounded like a piece of glass shattering in Matt's ears. Finally she brought the rag over and gently dabbed Matt's chest. As soon as the liquid touched his bruised and broken skin, an involuntary hiss escaped his lips before Matt could stop it.

"I'm sorry," the woman muttered, but she didn't stop. "We need to keep these wounds clean. You were in bad shape when you were brought in. Blood loss, broken bones, a fever-"

"Who are you?" Matt interrupted. He had the strangest feeling that he knew the woman, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He figured it was because all the pain his body was experiencing, but still. There was something about this woman that was sitting funny with him.

There was a pause before the woman answered. "I'm … Sister Margaret," she finally answered. The pitch of her voice alerted Matt that something was off, but she wasn't lying. She was Sister Margaret. "You're at the Lady of Grace convent. You're safe."

Matt almost laughed that once again, he'd somehow ended up being taken care of by nuns. "What happened?" His head was pounding, and Matt could feel himself slipping back into dreamworld, but he fought against it as hard as he could. Something was off, and he needed to know what was going on. Words tumbled out of his mouth, but they came out in a jumbled heap, one word barely legible from the next.

Sister Margaret picked up another washcloth, dipping it in the water as well. The droplets hitting the water weren't as loud this time, which Matt was grateful for, and the cool water felt nice when she laid the cloth on his forehead. "Shhh, just rest. Everything will be explained soon." Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but Matt could hear her perfectly. In his bleary state, he could at least remain grateful that his other senses, while seeming to be on the fritz slightly, were still functioning as normal as could be expected.

"Foggy. Karen. Claire." Matt was struggling to stay conscious. "I need to … need to get ahold of them. They don't … I … They don't know where I am." Suddenly another person's face popped into his mind. "Elektra?"

A second hand gently cupped the side of Matt's face, and he flinched slightly.

"You're alright. That's all that matters." The woman's thumb moved back and forth across Matt's cheek. He didn't know why, but the touch felt … right. Familiar. It was the last coherent thought he had before he once again slipped back into the arms of sleep.

The next time he woke up, he felt more awake, though he still felt like he'd been through a meat grinder. Thankfully, he was alone in the room, and he didn't have to worry about pretending not to know his surroundings. There was a table to his left, with a string of rosary beads on it, along with a cross hung up on the wall above his bed. Aside from those few things, there was one small chair in the corner of the room he was in, but that was it. The rest of the room was barren.

Slowly, Matt began sitting up. His whole body was sore, and he made a mental note that getting three-hundred feet of building debris dropped on himself was one of the more unpleasant things he'd been through. Not that he'd expected to survive.

As much as he wanted to move faster, his body would physically fight him whenever he tried. He gradually brought his legs over the side of the bed and put his hands on the bed, bracing himself so he remained upright.

The woman before had told him what injuries he had, but Matt took a mental stock of himself anyway. He could feel each and every cut and bruise on his body, each stinging and pulsing. He also counted three broken ribs, along with two cracked ones. Every inch of his body felt like it had been raked over by a claw, and his heightened senses just made the feeling ten times more prominent.

As he stood up, his head began pounding, and he had to stick his hand out and place it against the wall to combat the dizziness and nausea that assaulted him.

 _Add concussion to that list,_ he thought to himself. Once the dizzy feeling passed, he started shuffling around the room, too sore to even pick up his feet fully off the ground. He made his way over to the door, but as he reached for the handle, he picked up on footsteps coming his way. The soft scent of vanilla mixed with lavender washed over him, and he knew it was the woman from the last time he woke up, Sister Margaret, coming down the hallway. He took a few steps backwards as the woman neared the door.

When the door swung open, Matt got his first clear image of her, not that it was detailed. She was average height, wearing a nun's habit, and judging by her heart rate and the way her bones creaked slightly, he guessed she was probably in her mid-to-late fifties. He really had no idea what she looked like, but that didn't matter to him. By the way she held herself, Matt could tell she was reserved, and he would even go so far to say nervous as she entered.

She let out a small exclamation of surprise when she saw her patient standing by the doorway.

"You startled me," she said, walking in further. She had a tray of food, and Matt couldn't help the rumble his stomach released when he smelled the broccoli and cheese soup, paired with the warm roll. He wasn't sure when the last time he'd eaten was.

"Sorry," Matt said softly.

"Here," the woman said, setting down the tray of food on the table and walking over to her ward. When she gently grabbed Matt's elbow, he once again had the strangest feeling that he knew whoever this lady was. It was maddening that he couldn't remember where he knew her from. He was usually much better at remembering things like that. He knew for sure that she wasn't one of the nuns from the orphanage, but other than that, he had no idea where he could possibly know her from. She helped guide him back to bed, walking slowly with him to make sure he didn't topple over.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," she chastised lightly.

"Needed to stretch my legs." They reached the bed and she helped Matt sit down, even though he knew exactly where he was.

"Well, you really should be careful. Here, sit back." She eased Matt back into the bed so that his back was against the backboard, sitting upright. Matt heard the light padding of her footsteps as she retrieved the tray of food from where she'd set it, and there was sudden pressure on the mattress to the side of his legs. "Don't move your legs," she cautioned. "I've got this tray of food, and we wouldn't want it spilling everywhere." She grabbed his hand and placed a spoon in it, then closed his fist around the utensil.

"Hey, uh, Sister Margaret, right?"

The woman sat back in surprise. "How could you tell?"

"It's uh, your voice. I've got a good memory for voices."

Sister Margaret inclined her head. "Well, that's me. What do you need?"

"Listen, I was wondering. Is there a phone I can borrow?"

With that question, Sister Margaret shifted away from the blind man slightly. It wasn't a response Matt was expecting, and his face scrunched up in confusion slightly.

"I'm sorry. Our electricity has been on the fritz ever since that quake, and I don't think our landline is back up yet."

Matt didn't even have to listen to her heart to know that was a lie, but he wasn't about to call her out on it. He once again had the feeling that Sister Margaret was hiding something, but he decided not to force the topic for the moment.

"What happened? To me?"

"You were found, trapped under a mound of rubble. The debris you were caught under formed a pocket around you. It's the only reason you're alive."

"Was … was anyone else, uh, found?"

"No, I'm sorry. Was there someone else down there with you?"

"Why didn't you take me to a hospital?" Matt didn't answer the question about whether he was alone or not.

"Well … the people that found you, uh … said you were very insistent about not going to one."

"I was awake?" Suddenly Matt realized what must have happened, what they must have seen. "You … do you know … about me?"

"That depends."

"Depends? Depends on what?" Matt's heart was racing.

"On if you're going to kill anyone who knows your secret."

Matt choked out a laugh at the absurdity of the comment. "No," he assured her. "I'm not going to kill anyone."

"Alright, then yes. We know who you are."

Matt let out a groan and leaned his head back against the wall. "How many people know?"

"Just us sisters here. The people who pulled you from the rubble left your mask on."

Matt groaned again.

"Your secret is safe with us, I promise. Don't worry, Matthew. No one else will know."

Matt's head swiveled sharply towards the sister's voice. "How did you know my name?"

There was the briefest moment of hesitation, which most people wouldn't have caught. Matt Murdock was not 'most people' though, and he definitely heard the pause. More than that, he heard the lie building in the pause.

"I told you, we know who you are."

"You said you knew who the other guy was. You never said anything about knowing my name."

"You woke up momentarily when you were first brought in. There wasn't much that we could make out, but we did hear the name Matthew, and I figured I would take an educated guess."

Matt almost called the sister out on that blatant lie, but she stood up and made her way towards the door, and Matt had another question he needed answered before she left.

"How long have I been here?"

She paused and looked back at him, her hand on the doorknob. "You were found and brought here just under a week ago."

"A week?" Matt asked incredulously, trying to sit up further. Sister Margaret anticipated such an act though and had already moved back to her patient, placing her gentle but firm hands on his shoulders to keep him in the bed.

"Stay down, Matthew. You're not well enough to be up and about yet."

"I can't stay here," Matt muttered. He tried to move his legs, but the tray set above him rattled with the plate on it, and he stopped himself before he knocked everything over.

"Well you can't leave yet, that's for certain," Sister Margaret said evenly, keeping her hands in place. They stayed there until Matt finally stilled enough for the nun to feel comfortable letting him go.

"I know this is a lot to take in, but please. Eat your soup, try to get some rest. It's the best thing for your health right now."

Matt didn't want to eat, but the sister stayed there, and he could her expectancy was practically tangible, so finally with a soft huff, he picked up the spoon and placed it in the soup before him. He didn't eat right away though; instead, he swirled the utensil around for another minute.

"If you don't mind me asking, Matthew?" Sister Margaret began. She paused, waiting for Matt's signal to continue, which he gave with a nod of his head. He had a feeling he knew what she was going to ask anyway.

"Your eyes … they're non responsive, which leads me to believe you really are blind, but …"

"But how can a blind man do everything you've seen the Devil of Hell's Kitchen do?" Matt finished. Sister Margaret nodded, then remembered her patient's disability.

"I'm sorry, yes. That is my question."

Matt let out a long sigh. He didn't like explaining exactly what his powers were, especially since people didn't believe him at first. Either that, or they got upset. "It's … it's complicated. And something I'd rather keep to myself for the moment," he added. "I'm sorry Sister, I just—"

"There are some things that you need to keep for yourself. I understand that."

That was the first time she had been completely honest with him. That made Matt think that she knew firsthand what she was talking about. Still, there was something more there that he could sense in her voice. Longing curiosity, maybe? Or was it something deeper than that? The two of them sat there in silence for another moment before Sister Margaret patted his knee gently. She stood up and made her way towards the door, where she turned around one last time.

"I'll be back in a little while to pick up the dishes. Take as long as you need to eat, but just remember: you need your rest. Your body's been through an awful ordeal, and the best thing for it right now is sleep."

Matt nodded contritely, and he did stay in bed. He even took a few bites of soup, which actually helped him feel much better. But that only lasted until he heard the nun turn the corner at the end of the hall. That was when he pushed the food tray past his legs and once again slowly sat up. His head swam with the effort it took to accomplish even that small task, and Matt realized if he was going to be able to do anything, he'd actually need to finish whatever food the sister had brought him.

With a sigh, he reached out and grabbed the bowl of soup, lifting it up and bringing it over to him. The clanking of the spook against the bowl was louder than it should have been as Matt's hand shook under the weight of the bowl. For a moment, Matt fought the urge to throw the dish in frustration. He hadn't felt this weak in a long time. Not since he'd first lost his sight. Sure, there had been other times when he'd felt helpless, but he'd had other things going for him then. His full strength, his heightened senses, and … and friends. Now? Now he didn't have any of those. He felt as weak as a child. His senses, while they were still heightened, seemed to be on the fritz, one minute too attentive for him to concentrate on, the next minute making him feel like just another blind schmuck who didn't have super powers. As for friends …

Matt had pushed everyone in his life away. Foggy, Claire. Karen. At the thought of the blonde woman, Matt's heart skipped a beat. No matter how much he tried to push thoughts of her away, it never worked. Even remembering how harsh she sounded, her cold words when he asked her to come with him to the precinct couldn't make the feelings for her go away.

Matt's hands shook as he raised the bowl of soup to his lips and drank the liquid down, chewing the broccoli and carrot chunks as he reached them. Eventually his hands stopped shaking as bad, and he reached out for the roll he'd also smelled. It was warm and soft, clearly homemade, and was gone within about three bites.

Once his food was eaten, Matt decided to try and stand. He was still sore, but with the food in his system, he wasn't as weak as before, and he was able to move around much easier than he had earlier.

He focused on the noises outside the room. For the time being, his senses were agreeing with him, and not bombarding him with information he didn't need at the moment. He heard several of the nuns in the kitchen on the other side of the convent, preparing meals for the soup kitchen. That was good information, to know that he was near a soup kitchen. It wasn't what he was looking for though.

He focused even more, tilting his head as he concentrated. He picked up a conversation between a couple of the nuns, and it piqued his interest.

"— he knows?" one of them asked.

"No. At least, I don't think he does. Poor Maggie though. Do you know how she's doing?"

There was a soft chorus of negative answers to the sister's question, and Matt would have kept listening, but suddenly he picked up on something else, another noise that he'd been looking out for. The gentle click of someone picking up a phone off the cradle. _Bingo_. It was what he'd been waiting for. He carefully moved forward, heading for the door. He needed to find that phone.

He opened the door carefully, keeping an ear out for any sign of someone coming his way, but there wasn't anyone nearby. The sister who was using the phone bid farewell to whomever was on the other end of the line, and Matt focused on the reverberation the machine made when the phone was set back in the cradle. That was what he followed as he slowly made his way down the hallway, one arm wrapped around his tender ribs and midsection, while his other hand was placed against the wall as a support.

His senses were still slightly muddled, but his perception was good enough that he could avoid any objects in his way with relative ease. It took him a few minutes to find the phone, but he finally discovered it. It was sitting on a small table near the end of one of the halls, thankfully not too far from his room. Matt picked the phone up off the cradle and dialed a number he knew well, trying to decide whether the feeling in his chest was hope that the person would pick up, or wouldn't.

"This is Foggy Nelson."

 _Crap._ It was at that moment Matt realized he'd wanted to get Foggy's answering machine.

"Hello?" Foggy sounded impatient. "Listen, stop calling me! Take me off your list, or whatever it is that you guys get my number from. I'm sick of scams, 'winning' a trip to a hotel where you'll probably knock me out and steal my kidney, or being told my car's warranty is going to expire. Guess what, jerks? Joke's on you, cuz I don't own a car! So stop. Calling. Me."

Matt could tell his friend was about to hang up, and for a split second Matt couldn't decide if he wanted to let him or not. Finally though, Matt spoke.

"Foggy?"

Through the phone, Matt could hear Foggy's breath spike, and he even heard his friend's heart accelerate.

"Who is this?" Foggy's voice had taken on a colder, sharper edge.

"Foggy, it's me."

"No. No, screw you, whoever you are. This isn't funny."

Matt heard a slight hitch in his friend's voice, indicative of Foggy's emotions getting the best of him.

"I don't know who you are, or what made you feel like you needed to do this, but it isn't funny. If you call again, I will find any loophole I can to make sure you get charged with the maximum amount you can be charged with. Don't screw with me man. Not about this."

"Foggy, I swear,—" Suddenly Matt picked up on another heartbeat closeby. "Listen, Foggy, I've gotta go, but I promise, I-"

"What are you doing?!" Sister Margaret asked as she hurried over and saw what her patient was up to. She pulled the phone out of his hand and put it back in the cradle, harder than was necessary. The _clang_ as the phone was set down echoed through Matt's eardrums. "You're supposed to be in bed, resting!"

"I needed to move around," Matt argued.

"And you just happened to find the phone?" she accused.

"One that you said didn't work!"

"Because I knew you would do something stupid like get out of bed if I told you we had one that worked."

"I have people I need to make sure are safe!"

"And what if you'd fallen down and hurt yourself? What if no one had heard your cries for help?"

"I would have managed." Matt almost sounded like he was sulking, like he'd been caught doing something wrong. Which technically, he had.

"Unbelievable," the woman muttered. "You're just like Jack."

Matt started at the mention of his father's name. "What?"

Sister Margaret didn't answer his question about his father. Instead, she continued her tirade. "So, what are your plans now then? You're just going to leave? You're still injured, Matthew."

Murdock was still trying to recover from his father's name drop, and he stuttered over his words momentarily before he finally pushed past the shock. "Look, I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I've got people out there, people I've got to make sure stay safe. If there's ever anything I can do for you though, you know who I am. You know how to get ahold of me."

Sister Margaret fumed for a few moments before throwing her hands up in exasperation, an act that wasn't lost on Matthew, though he didn't let on that he knew what she was doing. "Alright, you want to leave? Fine. Be my guest. I probably have it coming anyway."

Matt opened his mouth to ask what her last sentence had meant, but he paused. Pieces of the curious puzzle he'd found himself in when he first woke up were starting to fuzzily fit themselves together, though the picture still wasn't perfectly clear. He almost didn't notice when she began moving away, back down the hallway. Her footsteps were forceful and determined, but Matt could also feel a sort of fragileness emanating from her. "Wait," he muttered, not loud enough for her to hear. Matt sat there for a moment, his head tilted to one side as he worked through the pieces of information he had at his disposal.

Suddenly, everything clicked. Why her touch felt so familiar, but he was sure he'd never interacted with her before, the strange lies she'd told, and now some of the other things she'd said were confusing to Matt ... He had a feeling he knew why this woman, this nun seemed so familiar, and the idea made him feel like he'd been punched in the gut.

He took a few halting steps down the hallway after her, but he could hear her getting further away, and his limping wasn't fast enough to catch him up with her in time. He needed to know the truth now, so he just called out again, louder this time, "Wait!"

Thankfully she paused, which gave Matt a little time to get closer to her. He stopped about ten feet away. She had her back to him, and Matt could feel her tension. With his head tilted to one side, Matt opened his mouth. He could taste the word on his tongue, but the thought of saying it scared him. Not just scared him. It terrified him. He closed his lips, trapping the word inside before it was unleashed on the world, never to be taken back. Once it was spoken, there was going to be an answer, and he wasn't sure what his reaction to any answer would be.

He berated himself silently. He'd faced Wilson Fisk, Frank Castle, a resurrected Nobu, and the entirety of the Hand without freezing. Why was this so hard? He could hear Sister Margaret's heart beating slightly faster, but she didn't move or say anything. Finally, Matt opened his mouth again.

"... Mom?"

The woman in front of him hesitated for just a moment before she slowly turned around. Her hands were clasped together and she began wringing them gently as she replied. "Hello, Matthew."

 _ **So ... thoughts? I'm mainly intending for this to be a one-shot, just to kind of tide people over until we get S3 of Daredevil, but if you guys like it enough, I do have a plot idea that I've been playing with, so let me know if you want more. Be warned though, most of my stories are mostly written by the time I start posting chapters. This one is not. If you want more, it will be a true WIP fic for me, but I'd be willing to do it if you guys wanted it :)**_

 _ **Honestly I never know if I keep anyone in character or not, so if you think something can be improved on, I'm all ears. Constructive critique though please! No flames :)**_

 _ **Anyway. I've got another Daredevil story in the works as well, and that one already has a sequel that has to be written. If you're also reading my MacGyver stories, like I mentioned earlier, don't worry. Those will keep coming. I just have started branching out my writing into other fandoms recently as well.**_

 ** _Tldr; if you want more to this story, let me know, and if you follow my other stories, I'm still posting to them as well XD_**

 ** _Let me know what you guys think please!_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Okay, so my sister begged me to continue, and the two of you who commented said you were interested in more, so more is here XD this is now a multi-chapter story, and I'll be changing the plot slightly to reflect so.**_

 _ **If you read my MacGyver stories, I'm so sorry, Vixen has taken a backseat for a hot minute. It's almost done, I just ... lost motivation for it, and I want to make sure that it gets the proper attention it deserves. I've just all of a sudden really gotten invested with my Daredevil stories. Idk why, don't ask me. Just know that Vixen is going to be finished, I'm just not sure when.**_

 _ **I don't own Daredevil, or any of the Defenders for that matter.**_

Foggy stared at the phone in his hand, heart pounding in his chest. As soon as he'd heard that voice, _that voice …_ With a silent rage, Foggy decided to put his phone back in his pocket before he threw it against the nearby wall.

It had barely been a week since Midland Circle.

Foggy was still fuming, but he started thinking about the call again. No one knew Matt was Daredevil, so no one knew Matt was dead. Which made Foggy wonder exactly who had called him … He pulled out his phone again and quickly accessed his HCB contacts, scrolling through until he found the one he was looking for.

"Miss Jones? Hi, it's Foggy Nelson."

"Who?"

" … Foggy Nelson? From Hogarth, Chao, and Benowitz?"

"Okay, and?"

"And I'm friends with … I _was_ friends with Matt? Matt Murdock?"

The silence that came from Jessica's end wasn't a confused silence this time. It was more of a calculated, _pondering what I'm going to say next_ type. "Right. Look, Foggy, now isn't really a good time for me, I'm in the middle of an investigation, and-"

"I just … when you get the chance, could you look up a number for me?"

A sigh crackled through the speaker, long and drawn out. Then finally, "Fine. Text me the number. I'll get to it sometime."

"The sooner the better," Foggy gently pressed, not wanting to tick off the drunk, superpowered PI more than she already was in a constant state of, but wanting to stress the importance of his request.

"Look, I'll get to it soon. Just text me the number."

"Thank y-" The call was ended before Foggy could finish stating his gratitude, but from what he remembered about Jessica, from the few times he'd run into her, that was pretty on-brand for her. With one last look at his phone, he slipped it back into his pocket and walked away, trying to put the thought of the phone call out of his head.

 _0-0-0_

"Matthew, I know, this doesn't make any sense, but I promise you, I can explain everything."

Everything Sister Margaret was saying sounded garbled to Matt. Blood rushed to his head as soon as she confirmed that she was his mother, and it was making it difficult for Matt to concentrate on anything. He even managed to bump into a chair as he moved back because he wasn't paying attention.

"You can't … How are you … Why …?"

"Matthew, I know it's hard to take in, but I promise, I will tell you what you need to know."

"Don't try using that line on me," Matt snapped. Rage helped him form complete sentences again. "You'll tell me everything I need to _know?_ You don't even need to be a lawyer to spot that loophole!"

Sister Margaret got a soft look on her face and she clasped her hands together. "Matthew, I'm so proud of you."

That took Matt by surprise, and he closed his mouth, shutting off the argument he was preparing. "I … what? You're proud of me?"

"Of what you've done with your life," Margaret clarified. "What, you think that I haven't been keeping and eye on you just because I wasn't around?"

"Actually, that's exactly what I thought," Matt shot back.

"What kind of mother would I be if I didn't care for my own child?"

"You tell me. Because you definitely made it seem like you didn't care for the past lifetime."

"It's not that I didn't care, Matthew. I just … I needed space. Things were complicated."

"Space," Matt scoffed. "Well, forgive me for barging in on your needed space. I'll just get my things and leave."

"Matthew, no, that's not what I meant!"

"Well, it's what I meant."

"Matthew, wait!"

But Murdock didn't wait. He turned and used his hand once again to feel his way down the hallway, this time heading for the exit. He was still moving slowly, but his desire to leave made the pain a little more bearable, and he moved much faster than he had when he first exited his room. It was still slow enough that if Sister Margaret had wanted to catch up, she could have, but she didn't move. Her breathing was faster, and her heart rate was slightly elevated, but she stayed where she was.

Part of Matt was disappointed. A small part of him (not that he would ever admit it) was wanting her to run towards him, to try and convince him to stay, or tell him that she made a mistake, but she didn't move, so Matt kept heading towards the door. He had nothing in his room, so he had nothing he had to go back for.

He passed several sisters along the way to the exit, each of their curious stares boring separate, individual holes into the back of Matt's skull as he passed. As he continued moving though, he suddenly felt something, deep in his gut. It forced him to pause in his determined march out of the convent. He tilted his head down, trying to figure out what was wrong.

Maggie noticed his pause. "Matthew?"

"I … something's wrong." If there was one thing Matt was good at, it was stating the obvious. Everything was muted and fuzzy all of a sudden, and he tripped over a slight crack in the cement. Thankfully he still had his hand on the wall, so he didn't faceplant it on the ground, but his broken ribs ground together, and he gasped in pain.

Dimly, he heard Sister Margaret calling out his name, and several hands grabbed ahold of him, lowering him gently to the ground.

"What's going on?" For a minute, Matt didn't know who asked that, but then he realized that the words had come from his own mouth.

"His fever's back up," someone said above him.

"We have to get him back to bed," Maggie stated. Matt tried sitting up, saying no. He had to get out; he needed fresh air. Unfortunately, his body had other plans, and he soon closed his eyes, falling into an unwilling unconsciousness.

 _0-0-0_

Foggy sat at his desk, his leg bouncing up and down unconsciously as he worked through some of his files. He thought he was doing a good job at keeping his mind off the phone call from this morning, telling himself that it was just a prank, but the fact that no one knew Matt was dead kept coming back to haunt him.

The words on Foggy's computer screen began blurring together, forming completely new, illegible words that held absolutely no meaning. It was at that point Foggy checked his watch and decided that he needed to take a break, get a coffee or something. As he made his way out of his office, he kept checking his phone. Still no word from Jessica. However, as if his phone knew he was looking at it, it suddenly lit up and began ringing, flashing Karen's face across his screen.

"Hey Karen," he greeted as he answered.

"Hey." Her voice was soft, and Foggy could tell that she'd been crying. "What are you, uh … what are you up to?"

"I was just taking a break from the office," Foggy replied. He pushed the button to call the elevator, then stepped back to wait.

"Back to work too?"

"Yeah, can't take a day off. Not with what's been going recently, the city falling in on itself, stores being looted, high paying clients claiming random crap that's happened to them …"

"Yeah, the office has been crazy since the quake," Karen agreed. "Hey, mind if I joined you for a cup of coffee?"

Foggy stepped onto the elevator and closed the doors, hitting the button for the main lobby. "Sure. There's actually something I wanna talk with you about; where're you at?"

"I'll meet you at the little cafe across from HCB," Karen offered. "Ten minutes?"

"See you then."

 _0-0-0_

"Karen." Foggy held up his hand in greeting, letting his friend know where he was sitting. She spotted him and smiled, making her way over. Her smile was reserved though, and Foggy could see tissues poking out of her purse. Foggy knew what she was going through. Even though Matt had done his best to distance himself from the two of them, it hadn't worked. Not completely, anyway.

"Hey," Karen greeted as she sat down across from Foggy. The blonde hailed one of the waitresses. "Coffee? Black."

"You got it."

"I don't know how you can like that stuff Karen," Foggy said with a sad shake of his head. "Tastes too much like your stuff."

Karen laughed in slight disbelief. "Wow, okay."

Foggy held out his hands apologetically. "I'm just saying …"

Karen shook her head, a small smile playing around her lips. "You know how lawyers are so good at hiding things sometimes? Yeah, maybe you should try that sometime, at least when it concerns friends and feelings." She wasn't upset though.

"I thought journalists longed for the truth in everything," Foggy pointed out with a smirk as the waitress brought over the drink.

"Fair enough, but once again, I said where it concerns friends." The journalist picked up the creamer and sugar and added in her desired amount. "Besides, see? I don't drink it just black."

"Where was all that flavorful stuff back at Nelson and Murdock?" Foggy teased. Karen chuckled, but the name of the small law firm brought some hard memories for her to swallow. Foggy noticed her change in disposition. "Hey look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for any of that-"

"No, no," she assured him. "It's not you."

Foggy heard it again in her voice. It wasn't the verge of tears, but it was the sound of someone's heart breaking over and over again. He knew, because he'd been going through the same thing since that building collapsed. He had to keep up appearances on the outside, because first of all, he had a professional job, and he didn't think Hogarth, Chao, or Benowitz would find it good if they stumbled upon him freaking out, and secondly because once again, no one knew that Matt was dead.

The sat there in silence for a moment, each having thoughts like that go through their heads. Thankfully, Karen's boss was much more understanding, even if he was slightly judgy. Karen knew that it mostly came from a place of caring. He just wanted her to distract herself with work, at least while she was in the office.

"So … got any good stories you're working on?" Foggy asked awkwardly after a minute of silence.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I've got a couple uh, stories that should pan out really well."

"I read your article about Matt's eleven-million dollar suit a couple days ago, that was really-"

"Foggy?" Karen interrupted, setting her cup down a little bit harder than necessary. Some of the coffee even spilled out onto the table. Karen grabbed a napkin and mopped up the mess as she continued. "You said you had something you wanted to talk about?"

Foggy debated whether or not to tell Karen about the phone call from earlier. If she reacted like that about a story she wrote about Matt, he couldn't help but wonder how she would react to finding out someone had prank called him sounding like Matt. Finally though, he figured it wasn't good to keep secrets from her. She'd find out soon enough anyway if she thought he was hiding something.

"Yeah. Yeah, there was. Have you gotten any … any weird phone calls recently?"

"Define weird?"

"You'd know what I was talking about if it had happened."

"Foggy, what happened? Who called you?"

Here it goes. Foggy took in a deep breath. "This morning, I got a call from someone. They uh, they sounded a lot like Matt. When I asked who was calling, all they said was 'it's me, Foggy.'"

Karen stared at her friend, a look of disbelief once again lighting on her face. This time though, the disbelief was laced with something. Foggy would almost call it hope.

"Wait, Matt? But … but that's …"

"Not possible, I know," Foggy agreed.

"But … do you think?"

"Karen, don't do that to yourself," Foggy cautioned. _Crap._ This was exactly what he was worried was going to happen. She was going to get her hopes up and go searching for any sign or indication that Matt was alive. "You heard what the others said. You know about that stupid hole. Three hundred feet of rubble falling down? There's no way someone could survive that."

"But Foggy, if anyone _could_ survive that, it would be Matt!"

"No, if anyone could survive that, it would be one of those super strong guys from Manhattan. Matt might have had super senses, but it didn't make him invincible."

"Nobody else knows that Matt was down there. No one knows he's missing." Karen spoke in a low, throaty whisper so that if anyone was listening in, they wouldn't hear what she was saying.

"I know, I thought of that too. But Karen, we … we can't do this to ourselves. Matt wouldn't want us to torture ourselves agonizing over whether he's alive or not. In fact, if it were up to Matt, he may just want us to forget him entirely."

"Unless it was really him that called you," Karen shot back. "Do you not even care?" She was getting worked up, Foggy could tell. "This is your best friend, and if there's even the slightest chance that he's actually alive, don't you think that we should at least check it out?" Her voice was getting louder and louder, and people were starting to notice. Foggy looked around and saw everyone staring at them, and he turned back to Karen, holding his hands up in a peaceful gesture.

"Okay, listen. Let's take this conversation outside."

Foggy stood up and tossed a few bills on the table, then held his hand out for Karen to take, which she did after a few seconds of contemplative silence. They exited the cafe and began walking down the street.

"I'm not just doing nothing about this," Foggy finally said after they'd crossed the street. "I hired someone to look into the phone number, see what they can find out about whoever it belongs to."

"Hired someone? Who did you hire?"

"She's a Private Eye who does freelance work for HCB from time to time. Actually, she just does stuff for Hogarth, but I've met her a few times. She was also there when Midland Circle collapsed. Her name is Jessica Jones."

"Wait, Jessica Jones?" Karen asked. "Isn't she that Supergirl or something?"

Foggy chuckled. "I don't think that's her code name. Probably already trademarked by another super somewhere. Anyway, don't let her catch you calling her that. From what I've heard and seen of her, she doesn't like all the extra attention her powers give her."

"Well, have you heard from her yet? When did you ask her to look into it? Did she say when she'd get back to you?"

"Calm down," Foggy advised. "I talked to her this morning, but I haven't heard back. She said she'd get to it sometime soon. And before you ask," he added, seeing Karen open her mouth. "She didn't specify what 'soon' meant. I think she knows it's important though."

By that time, they'd reached the entrance to HCB, and Foggy turned to face Karen. "Listen, I promise I'll let you know as soon as I hear from her. Just … don't go doing anything stupid until you hear from me. Then, if it's worth looking into, we'll go do something stupid together. Deal?"

Karen hesitated a second before finally nodding and grabbing Foggy's outstretched hand. "Deal."

She said it grudgingly, but Foggy knew that she meant it. She wouldn't do anything stupid without him. "I just don't want you to get your hopes up, and then have them crushed when nothing comes of this," he said gently.

" _If_ nothing comes of this," Karen corrected. Foggy sighed. She was doggedly optimistic, but it was one of the things that he had grown to love about her, and he knew that it was one of the reasons Matt had fallen for her too.

"Anyway," Foggy said, jerking his thumb back towards the building. "I gotta run. Got more clients to talk with today."

"Yeah. I've got some people I need to interview," Karen agreed. They turned and each started heading their own direction, but Karen turned back around before they could get too far. "Hey Foggy?" The lawyer turned around. "Thanks for the coffee. And … thanks for telling me about Matt."

Foggy gave her a soft smile. "Anytime. Just remember, nothing stupid without me."

"You got it, boss," Karen replied with a chuckle. With that, the two of them separated, both getting back to their regular lives until more information became available.

 _ **Thoughts? :D I'd love to hear what you guys are thinking.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story!**_

 _ **I don't own Marvel or Daredevil. Though I want to write for them someday. Doesn't mean I own them though, so no suing. ... Please.**_

Jessica's text came while Foggy was on the phone with a client.

"As I stated earlier, Mrs. Badeski, you've got nothing to worry about. … Of course, ma'am."

 _Ding._

Foggy looked down at his phone.

 _I've got your number._

That was all he could see without opening the rest of the message, but he couldn't do that while he was on the phone with his client.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Of course, Mrs. Badeski. We should be hearing back from the courts any day now. … Yes, ma'am. Of course. … Yes, you too. Talk to you later, ma'am."

Foggy hung up with his client before picking up his phone and opening the rest of Jessica's text.

 _I've got your number. It's a landline to a convent. Lady of Grace. 48th and 51st._

"Thanks," Foggy typed out.

 _Don't get your hopes up, lawyer man._

Foggy didn't send anything in reply. He figured Jessica was someone who didn't really want to have a discussion about hope, or Matt. At least not over text. Instead, Foggy jumped over to his contacts and scrolled through until he found the one he was looking for, tapping on the 'call' option.

"Karen? I uh, I got an address."

"You did? Foggy, that's great!"

"Calm down, Karen. Remember, it's probably gonna be nothing."

"But it could be _something_."

Foggy had to admire her determined spirit. However, he didn't have to encourage it more than he already was. "I've still got work to do here, but I'll be done in a few hours. Meetcha then and we'll go over together?"

"Sure. It'll give me time to finish up this article."

"Great. I'll see ya in a few."

"Great. Foggy?"

"Yeah?"

"Even if it's nothing … maybe it'll help give some sort of closure? You know? Since they never found a body?"

Foggy sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon."

The call was disconnected, and Foggy held his phone against his forehead, closing his eyes as if trying to stave off a headache. After a few moments, he opened his eyes again and set his phone back down. He still had a few hours worth of client notes to look over.

 _0-0-0_

Consciousness returned slowly to Matt, as if it were trying to squeeze every last bit of sleep that it could from the young man. He won the battle eventually though, and at last opened his eyes, even though it did literally nothing for him. His heart was beating in his chest, trying to imitate a John Philip Sousa march as it tried to break his remaining ribs.

"Matthew?"

Murdock flinched when he heard the voice. Not because it was loud, or because it startled him, but because he now knew who that voice belonged to really, and he wasn't sure he was ready to deal with that.

"Matthew, please. Talk to me."

"What happened?" Matt was having the strongest sense of deja vu.

"You collapsed."

"No kidding. _Why_?"

"Your wounds … we think they became infected. I've cleaned them as best I can for now, but it really would be better if we-"

"If you you take me to a hospital, which isn't happening," Matt finished for her firmly.

"Stop being so stubborn!" Margaret snapped. The rustling of fabric and exasperated huff of air told Matt that his mother was folding her arms in frustration.

"I need to leave," Matt said in lieu of replying. He tried to sit up, but ended up letting out a sharp shout of pain as his ribs loudly protested against that idea.

"I wouldn't suggest that," Sister Margaret said drily.

"I can't stay here."

"Yes, you can." The nun's voice was sharp. It was a tone Matt recognized. It was the same one he used every night, when he'd go out as Daredevil. When that tone was used, the people Matt fought usually didn't argue against it. However, Matt wasn't like them, and this was his mother. She wouldn't do anything to harm him. At least, he didn't think she would.

When he tried to sit up again, there was a firm shove on his shoulders that sent him flopping back into the pillows with a gasp. The hands weren't removed from his shoulders, and when he tried to shake them off, Matt quickly realized that was a bad idea. One that could potentially break his cracked ribs, and throw his broken ribs out of place. After several moments of internally struggling with himself, Matt finally relaxed back into the bed. Sister Margaret didn't seem to buy his attempt at being docile, because her hands stayed firmly placed on his shoulders, and her heartbeat stayed elevated. She was nervous. Matt decided to try and allay that nervousness, see if he could get her off her guard.

"How long was I out?"

"Most of the day. It's almost six o'clock now."

"And … there's been no one here?" He heard the whisper of fabric on fabric as Sister Margaret shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Matthew."

Tears pricked at the corners of Matt's eyes, and he tried to blink them away. There was no reason for him to be upset that Foggy hadn't taken his call seriously. Even if his friend _had_ believed that it was Matt on the other end of the phone call, Matt figured Foggy couldn't just drop everything he was doing and come check out the possibility that his friend _might_ be alive.

Matt tried to figure out if he actually wanted to respond to his mother, but footsteps coming down the hall towards the room made the decision for him. Sister Margaret noticed his hesitation and saw his head tilted towards the door. She stood up, turning just in time to face one of the other sisters as she walked inside, tapping softly on the door as she did so.

"Excuse me, Sister Margaret. There are two people here they say they want to talk to whoever's in charge, maybe walk around a little."

Matt's heart picked up the pace slightly, and he stretched out his senses, listening for anything familiar. It didn't take long. Even with all the heartbeats from the different nuns in the convent, he'd recognize both of the new heartbeats anywhere.

"I'm sorry, Sister Anne. Tell them we aren't a tourist attraction."

"No," Matt said, sitting up and holding out his hands. "Don't send them away. Bring them …" He paused, wondering what would happen when he was reunited with his friends. He hoped whatever the consequence would be, it would be worth it. "Bring them here. Please."

He could practically hear the silent conversation between Sister Anne and Sister Margaret. No one said anything for close to thirty seconds.

"Please," Matt asked again.

Maggie sighed. "Bring them back here, Sister."

"Yes, Sister Margaret."

Sister Anne left, and once again, Matt and his mother were left alone. Margaret turned to Matt. "Matthew, I don't think this is a good idea. You're not strong enough-"

"You gave up telling me what you think is best for me when you left me and dad."

"And what if I said I wasn't telling you this as a mother?" She sounded hurt. Matt could tell his comment actually dug deep, and a part of him felt bad. Not enough for him to apologize though.

"Well then, I could give you the number of someone else who's taken care of me before, and the two of you could have long conversations about how I don't listen to medical advice very well."

Sister Margaret's breath was once again let out in an exasperated huff, but before she could say anything else, footsteps approached again, their pounding almost as loud as the hammering in Matt's chest. Matt sat up, faster than he should have, making his ribs ache in protest and his breath catch in his throat, but he pushed past the discomfort.

The door was opened, and when Matt listened, it seemed like everyone's heart in the room skipped a beat or two.

Karen swore softly, then remembered where she was. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sisters," she said to the two nuns in the room.

"Sisters, could you, uh … could you excuse us?" Matt asked. Whatever was going to happen between the three friends, Matt didn't want it to be in front of an audience. Sister Anne immediately turned and headed out the door, but Sister Margaret hovered. Matt tilted his head towards her. "Please?"

He could practically taste her hesitation in the air, but she finally silently agreed and followed Sister Anne out the door, closing it gently behind them.

"How the he-," Foggy started, but Matt held up his hand. Sister Margaret was still outside the door. Matt could hear her trying to slow her breathing, but her foot scraped against the floor as she twisted. It was soft enough no one else would have heard it. But Matt did. Finally, after not being able to hear anything, Sister Margaret turned and walked down the hallway, muttering to herself. For a moment, Matt debated on whether or not to listen in on what she was saying, but he figured it would be better to pay attention to the matter at hand: namely, his two best friends, who had thought he was dead, standing in front of him.

"Matt," Karen breathed out, her breath hitching in her throat as she took a step forward. She raised her hand slightly, as if she wanted to touch him, make sure he was real, but she dropped it quickly. Matt reached out and took her hand though, assuring her without speaking that he was really there. They sat that way for a few seconds, then Matt pulled her in gently for a hug, not even caring that his ribs squawked and protested at the sudden pressure.

"I don't want to hurt you," Karen said, though she didn't fight to get out of the hug.

"You can't … you could never … hurt me," Matt promised her, burying his face in her shoulder. Karen didn't realize this, but Foggy had taken a few steps closer, not sure of what to do with himself. The blond man didn't want to interrupt this moment between the two of them, but he also didn't want to be left out. Matt made the decision for him easily. When Foggy was within arm's reach, Matt released one hand from around Karen and reached out for his best friend, pulling the other lawyer into the hug as well.

The moment was tender, and all of them felt it. After a few moments, Matt was the first to pull back, putting his hand on his sore midsection. The hug had been worth it, but his broken ribs were going to make sure he paid for their prolonged torture. Obviously Matt couldn't see it, but he could taste the salt in the air from the tears all of them were shedding. He choked out a laugh.

"Look at all of us, grown adults and here we are, crying."

"I'd say we've earned a bit of crying time," Karen said softly, reaching out to brush away a tear on Matt's face. Once again though, she paused, not sure what his reaction would be. Matt sensed her hesitation and reached up, wiping the tear away himself.

"You're right. I think we've earned the ability to have soft moments like this."

After a few moments, not wanting to disturb the soft moment, Foggy finally spoke up. "Matt, I hate to break this up, but … _how?_ "

"I honestly don't know," Matt replied, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "I've been trying to figure that out myself. Sister … Sister Margaret said that the rubble formed a pocket around me. That's the only reason I wasn't crushed. But other than that, I'm still trying to figure it out."

Foggy didn't miss how Matt said the nun's name; the tone was one of confusion, but obviously Matt knew who the nun was. Foggy wasn't sure what was so confusing, but he decided not to bring it up.

"Well, whatever happened, you're … you're alive," Karen said, wiping quickly at her face to try and hide the fact that she was still crying. Matt could taste the tears, but he didn't tell her that. "And you're not staying here anymore," the journalist announced.

"I was thinking the same thing," Matt agreed.

"But you're not going back to your apartment," Karen added, knowing that was exactly what Matthew had in mind.

"Karen-"

"Matt, I don't want to hear it. You're not going to stay in your apartment by yourself," Karen insisted.

"I'm fine to be on my own."

Foggy was the one that answered then. "That's bull, and you know it." There was a moment of silence, but not hesitation, before he continued. "You tried so hard to push us away, Matt, and for a while it worked. I … I didn't know what I wanted from our friendship, but I could tell that you didn't want anything to do with us anymore."

"It's not that I didn't want to have anything to do with you guys, you know why I had to leave-"

"Save it, Matt, and stop interrupting." Foggy let out a huff and stared Matt down until his friend shut his mouth, signalling for him to keep going. "Listen. I don't care about your 'lonely is better' mantra, because no one can live alone, Matt. Everyone needs someone, and we've been there for each other for years. After Midland Circle, you have _no idea_ what we went through."

Matt sensed Foggy's hand gesturing through the air as he talked about Karen and himself.

"When I thought you were dead, I didn't know what to do. You tried so hard to get us to leave, but when it really came down to it, when I thought you were gone, I died inside. Do you know what it's like, thinking you've lost your best friend? Because that's what you are to me, Matthew Murdock. You're my best friend, and because of that, neither of us are leaving you again." Foggy looked over at Karen. "You wanna say anything?"

"No," she responded with a shake of her head. "No, I think you covered everything." She looked down at Matt, who was staring past them at the wall, a resigned look on his face. He wanted to fight back, but truth be told, he was tired. He was in pain. He didn't want to fight with his friends. So, he lifted up his hands in surrender.

"Alright," he conceded. "Whatever you say."

The surprise Foggy exuded was tangible. Matt didn't even need his eyes to see his friend's surprised look. "Really? That's it? No arguments?"

"I mean, I _can_ argue, if you want-"

"No, no," Foggy interrupted, shaking his head vehemently. He was shaking his head so hard, Matt could practically hear his friend's brain bouncing around in his skull. "No, you just … that's fine. Who do you want to go home with?"

Matt hesitated. "I, uh …"

"He can come with me," Karen offered. Matt could feel the heat in her face and hear the blood rushing to her cheeks as she blushed.

"You sure?" Foggy asked.

"Yeah, that's fine. Besides, you're still packing and moving things," she reminded the lawyer.

"You're moving?" Not that Matt was surprised. The smell of Foggy's suit was expensive, meaning his friend could afford a much better lifestyle than the one they'd shared previously.

"Found an apartment closer to work," Foggy replied, unsure of how Matt was going to react. However, his friend's tired grin seemed genuinely happy.

"That's great, Foggy. I'm happy for you."

After a moment of a slightly prolonged silence, Karen let out a whoosh of air. "Well, let's get you up and out of here?"

"Please." Matt was trying to forget about the fact that he'd found his mother, and he hoped that by leaving the convent, it may be a little easier. Someday he would come back and face her, but he couldn't do it today. He accepted Karen's hand as she reached out to help him up, and together, the three of them slowly made their way out of his room.

"Shouldn't we tell someone we're taking you?" Karen asked, looking around for a nun.

Before Matt could answer, he heard a familiar heartbeat, and he let out a sigh. "Sure. Here comes one now."

"Where do you think you're going?!"

Matt slowed to a stop and turned to face Sister Margaret, who was coming down the hallway. The slap of her feet against the floor and the flapping of her robes painted an image in Matt's head of her determined march.

"I'm leaving with my friends," Matt replied slowly.

"Don't worry, Sister. We'll take care of him," Karen tried assuring the nun. Sister Margaret didn't pay any attention to the blonde. She was staring straight into Matthew's sightless eyes. The blind man didn't look the least bit apologetic.

"Thank you for taking care of me," Matt said evenly. "I'm in very capable hands now."

"But … Matthew …"

"Come on, guys." Matt began walking towards the door again, not hesitating in the slightest. Karen and Foggy both looked between Sister Margaret and Matthew in confusion, unsure of what was going on between them, or why their friend was being so openly cold towards someone who saved his life. They stayed with Matt though, and together, the three of them walked out of the convent and hailed a taxi.

Karen got in first, then Matt, and then Foggy. Once they were all inside the cab, Karen gave the driver her address, and he pulled away from the convent, merging into traffic. Foggy glanced back towards the convent and saw Sister Margaret standing there, watching them leave. As he was staring at the nun, Foggy thought he saw a shadowy movement out of the corner of his eye. It was gone faster than he could actually look though. The cab pulled away, and Foggy's thoughts were jerked back to his current companions, thoughts of the shadow fading from his mind.

 _ **Okay so ... thoughts? :D Lemme know what you guys think! I wasn't sure if the reunion was OOC for Matt especially, so I'd be grateful for any feedback. Constructive feedback, that is.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thank you for everyone who has read, favorited, followed, and commented on this story! I'm glad people are enjoying it :)**_

 _ **I don't own anything to do with Daredevil or Marvel**_

The conversation drifted through his ears as he began waking up.

"Don't you think he and that nun were acting a little weird?"

"I … I mean yeah, I did, but is now really the best time to bring it up?"

"Karen, with Matt, we may not get another chance."

"You do know I can hear you, right?" Matt called out from the couch he was on. Karen had tried to get him to take the bed, but in his ever-present stubbornness, Matt had insisted on crashing on the couch. Foggy and Karen were in the hallway with the door shut, but that wasn't an obstacle for Matt.

His friends stopped talking. Matt even heard Foggy's teeth clack together as he shut his mouth. Matt's jaw ached with sympathy pain. The gentle click of Karen's shoes across the floor was accompanied by the softer thud of Foggy's shoes as they made their way back to Karen's apartment.

"Hey," Karen greeted as they came in. Foggy shut the door quietly and they made their way over to their friend's side. "Sorry, we thought you were asleep."

"I was, but I woke up. Didn't hear you guys in the apartment and started to worry."

Foggy let out a strained chuckle. "Hear that? He's worried about us. Matt Murdock, The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, who just got a building collapsed on him, is worried about us."

"Keep it down, wouldja?" Matt hissed, even though he could tell that no one in the surrounding apartments had heard Foggy's proclamation about his extra curricular activities. There were no changes in heart rates, no whispers, nothing. The neighbor two doors down even had the news on so loud that Matt hardly had to concentrate to hear the television set. So his secret was still safe. That didn't mean that he wanted his friend to go around announcing the fact that he was Daredevil.

"Sorry," Foggy said. "Listen, Matt, I know it's a little soon, and you're still recovering, but … what happened between you and that nun? Sister Margaret, or whatever her name was? We just … think you were acting a little weird."

Matt let out a sigh. "I know. I heard you guys, remember?"

An awkward silence, then Foggy replied, "Right."

"Listen, I just … I think I want to keep that one to myself a little longer. I just need to figure out what to do about it." Before Foggy could ask any more questions, Matt continued. "Wait … what time is it? Shouldn't you guys be at work?"

"I don't think it's a good idea to leave you here by yourself," Foggy replied.

"I'm a big boy, I'm sure I can handle being alone for the day while you guys go to work. You don't want to get in trouble."

"It wasn't us we're was worried about." The dryness in Karen's voice made her implications abundantly clear.

Matt attempted to blow off her concern with a short chuckle. "You think I'm gonna go out right now? When I woke up for the first time in a week yesterday?"

"That's exactly what we think you're going to do," Foggy confirmed. For a moment, Matt thought about acting offended, but he knew he'd given his friends every reason to believe that as soon as they turned their backs, he would race off and become Daredevil again.

Matt opened his mouth to assure his friends he'd be good, but the story on the news a few apartments down changed his mind.

" _-attack on this convent. If anyone has information, they are asked to come forward. We go now to Jodie Ross at the scene."_

" _Thanks Pete. I'm outside Lady of Grace convent right now, where police are still trying to figure out exactly what happened. We know the convent was attacked, but that's about it at this time. Three of the sisters here have been sent to the hospital, and one sister has been reported as missing."_

"Matt?"

Matt didn't verbally respond to Foggy's question. He just waved his hand, signaling for his friend to stop talking.

" _Thankfully, there were no casualties in this attack, but two of the nuns sent to the hospital had fairly severe wounds and have lost a substantial amount of blood. They are currently residing in the ICU. Once again, if anyone has any information about this attack, they are encouraged to come to the police, and help us bring Sister Margaret back safely."_

That name sent a jolt through Matt so strong he felt like he'd been hit with jumper cables, and he swore under his breath. Foggy heard the muttered curse, and he stared at his friend.

"Matt, what is going on?"

"The convent," Matt replied, trying to push himself up.

"Woah," Karen said, standing in front of him, hands on her hips. "Now you're not even waiting for us to leave before you go all vigilante?"

"What about the convent?" Foggy asked. "None of us said anything about the convent."

"News, three doors down. It was attacked. Karen, please. Let me up."

"Hold on," Foggy said, coming to stand over by Karen. "What do you mean attacked? By who?"

"They don't know by who yet, but I've got a pretty good idea."

Foggy stared expectantly at his friend, waiting for an answer. "Well?" he asked when Matt didn't say anything. "Are you gonna tell us?"

"It's safer if you don't know."

"Matt." The warning tone in Foggy's voice was back. The 'don't-push-me-further-than-I've-already-been-pushed' tone. "We're already involved, you might as well give us the full details so that we can be prepared.

Matt didn't want to, but his friend had a point. They _were_ already involved. "The Hand," he finally said.

"Wait, they're back?" Karen asked, looking towards the door as if she expected the ninjas to come crashing through at the mere mention of their name. Her hand strayed towards her purse, which only Matt noticed. He knew she had a gun in there. The metallic tang was one of the first things he'd tasted when she'd come to get him at the convent. And what surprised him most about the gun was not that she had one, but that he smelled GSR on it. It was old, but undeniable. The gun had been fired sometime in the past.

"Matt?"

The blind man's head turned towards Foggy.

"How do you know it's them?" Foggy asked once he had Matt's attention.

"I just do."

"Well, even if I wanted to accept that answer, the cops are probably there taking care of things. Daredevil can't show up in the middle of the day!"

"They got Sister Margaret."

"Wait, that's the nun that you were arguing with, right?" Foggy looked at Karen in confusion. "Matt, why does this mean so much to you?"

Foggy knew that protecting people was important to Matt, but the blind man seemed to be especially angsty about this particular case.

"I … it's more than … they saved my life, Foggy," Matt said, clearly failing in his attempt to hide the truth.

"Right, and I get that. But why do you care so much about Sister Margaret? Didn't seem like you two got along very well."

"It's … complicated."

"Good thing I'm an awesome lawyer and understand complicated." Foggy crossed his arms over his chest. Karen was watching them, confusion lining her face. Matt couldn't see her expression, but he could feel the shift of her muscles as her face formed the lines.

"Foggy, I—"

"Matt. Please. Don't do this to us again. You aren't getting rid of us that easily, but that doesn't mean pissing us off is gonna be any harder." There was a tense silence as the two men and Karen silently tested each other's boundaries.

Matt finally sighed. "She isn't just the nun that saved my life."

The expectant silence didn't dissipate, and Matt knew that his friends wouldn't let him go until he told them.

"Sister Margaret … she's … she's my mother."

The stunned silence was almost worse than the expectant silence. With the expectant silence, it meant that there was still something Matt had to tell them. With the stunned silence though, Matt had nothing left to say, and waiting for their response was like sitting on a chair full of needles.

"Your … your mom?" Karen was the first to break the quiet, and she sounded like she wasn't sure she wanted to.

"Matt, are you sure?"

Matt couldn't stop the scoff that escaped his lips, though he didn't mean it to be condescending. "Sorry. Yeah, I'm sure."

Foggy's nails scratched the back of his neck as he thought through things. "And you think they took your mom to get back at you?"

"I mean, why else would they attack the convent?"

"But how would they have known she's your mother?"

"Maybe they don't. Maybe they just grabbed the head nun."

Matt didn't actually believe that, but he was hoping against hope that that was what happened. By his friends' silences, Matt could tell they didn't believe that it was a coincidence either. He couldn't back down though.

"Foggy, I have to go. She might have abandoned me, but … if I want to get any answers about _why_ she left, she can't be killed by The Hand."

"And?" Foggy prodded. He knew that wasn't the only reason.

Another sigh escaped Matt's lips. "Because … she's my mother, Foggy. Are you telling me you wouldn't do the same?"

Foggy's eye roll was not lost on Matt, but the blind man decided not to react to it. "Of course I'd do the same thing, Matt," Foggy finally admitted. Matt opened his mouth to thank Foggy for conceding his point, but the other lawyer didn't stop there. "But I didn't just begin recovering after having a building dropped on me!"

"I'm fine!"

"Matt, I really don't think this is a good idea," Karen interjected softly.

"Karen …"

"No, Matt. Listen. I know this is your mother, and I know you feel like you have to get out there, but you could barely move when we found you. What makes you think that you're actually going to be able to save your mother _and_ yourself? If The Hand is trying to lure you in, they're going to be expecting any kind of trap."

"They're not going to kill me," Matt replied confidently.

"How could you possibly know that?" Foggy's skepticism wasn't unprecedented. Matt knew he sounded crazy, seeing as how The Hand had tried to kill him countless other times.

"Listen, Foggy. I know none of this makes sense, but you're just gonna have to trust me."

"This is _The Hand_ we're talking about, Matt!"

"Guys!" Karen's voice cut through their argument like a hot knife. "Listen, Matt. I think you've just … you've gotta give us a chance to figure things out. You being this honest with us is great, but you haven't exactly been forthcoming in the past."

"Exactly," Foggy agreed.

"Look. If they didn't kill your mom at the convent, they're not going to kill her until they get you."

"But they could be trying … trying to make her talk." Matt's voice cracked at the thought of his mother at the mercy of The Hand. He tried to shake himself out of it, internally stating that he'd known the woman less than forty-eight hours. As much as he tried to use that excuse though, he couldn't stop the feeling of need that drove him. Need to get out and save.

"Matt, I know, and I want to help you save your mom, I do. But can you at least wait until after we get back from work?"

"Wait, work?" Foggy asked. "I thought we said it wasn't smart to leave him alone."

"Foggy, if we don't go into work once, it would be fine. But if we have to consistently stay here, someone is gonna come snooping. Trust me. I work with investigative journalists. If we stop acting normal, people are gonna figure something is up. Matt, listen. Just … wait for us to get back. We can help you. We'll find her, I promise."

Matt for sure didn't want to involve his friends in his fight, but he knew that if he wanted them to leave, he'd have to agree. So, he leaned back in the seat and held up his hands.

Foggy and Karen weren't dumb though. They knew their friend all too well.

"I'll have my neighbor check in on you every few minutes."

"Yes, cuz that's better than having your employers send people to check things out," Matt drawled.

"At least this way I can control who's coming in and out. Besides. If you know they're coming, maybe you'll be less likely to run."

"House arrest, huh?" Matt didn't mean for the comment to come out as harsh as it did, but he was still frustrated.

"Give us a reason to trust you won't run then." That authoritative voice. That was one of the things Matt loved about Karen, but it was also extremely frustrating. At his silence, Karen's heart rate accelerated slightly in accomplishment.

"Alright, that's settled. Wait for us, Matt, and we'll be back later. I'll come by when I need a break."

"Same here," Foggy agreed.

Matt grunted in resignation. His friends took that as their cue to leave, and they spent the next few moments gathering up their things. Finally, they were ready to go.

"Okay um … well, we'll see you in a little bit, Matt," Karen said, trying her best not to sound awkward. Trying, and failing. Matt couldn't help but find it slightly adorable though, if still somewhat irritating.

She and Foggy headed out of her apartment, and in a minute Matt heard a knock on the next door over. Muted voices that Matt barely listened to drifted through the air as Karen did what she promised. Asked her neighbor to check up on her friend, and to call Karen if there were any problems. The neighbor agreed, and after Karen gave the neighbor her number, Matt heard the clicking of Karen's heels and the heavier thud of Foggy's footsteps leave the complex. Matt tracked them for a few minutes, making sure that they weren't attacked on their way to work, but eventually he let them slip into the crowd.

After a few minutes of sitting semi-sullenly on Karen's couch, Matt's stomach reminded him that the last thing he'd eaten was the soup and roll from Sister Margaret. Karen wasn't much of a cook, but there was some bread and sliced meat in the fridge.

The sandwich was made and devoured within minutes, and soon Matt felt the protein and sugars from the food rushing through his blood. He could physically feel his mood lifting, and his thoughts became sharper, more clear. Not that they were muddled previously, but he had a clear vision of what he needed to do now.

His body was still stiff and sore, and moving around fast was still out of the question, which was frustrating, but he tried to push his limits just a little bit.

He was starting to move towards the door when new footsteps vibrated through the floor, and he remembered the neighbor. He bit back a curse as she walked towards Karen's apartment, and a knock sounded on the door.

"Hello?"

For a moment, Matt thought about not answering, but then remembered that Karen instructed the woman to give her a call if something was up.

"Hello? Are you alright in there?"

"Yeah, I'm coming," Matt finally called. He shuffled his way over to the door and opened it. "Sorry."

"Oh!" The surprise in the woman's voice made it clear to Matt that she wasn't aware of his permanent injury. "Oh, I'm so … I'm sorry, you must get this all the time, I just …"

"It's fine," Matt assured her.

"I, um … well, I promised your friend I would check in on you every little bit, so uh … I'm here!" She gave a small chuckle and a shrug.

"Thank you," Matt said. "But honestly, Karen is just a little paranoid, that's all. You really don't have to keep coming back, I'm sure you've got things to do."

"I mean, not really. Besides, Karen told me you would say that and I shouldn't listen. And you do seem like you've been through … a lot. Do you mind me asking … what happened?"

Her arm swished through the air as she gestured at Matt's whole body, and he got a feeling she wasn't asking about the blind guy thing.

"I uh … got hit by a car." Technically he wasn't lying. That was what happened—back when he was nine.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I'm alive."

"Are you going after the people that hit you?"

He paused for a moment. "I think I am."

"Good. They shouldn't be able to get away with this." There was a slightly awkward pause, then she continued, "Well, I should probably get going, let you get back to resting. I'll be by in a a little bit to check up on you again."

"Thank you."

They both stepped away and Matt closed the door before he made his way back to the couch. His eyes began drooping shut. Karen and Foggy wouldn't be home for a while, and he figured it would be a good idea to be present for a few more visits from Karen's neighbor, try to convince her he was fine before he ran off to find The Hand. Until he could leave though, his body was desperately begging him for some rest.

He'd slept too much lately, but he couldn't deny his body the rest it needed. Not sleep though. From the couch, he lowered himself onto the floor and sat cross legged, shutting out the unnecessary sounds. The cars honking outside. The music coming from the floor below. The couple a few apartments down. Everything he could cut out, he did.

As breathed in deeply, he forced his muscles to relax, and he set his arms on his knees, palms up, thumb and forefinger forming a loose circle. Soon he felt himself becoming more focused. So focused that he almost didn't hear the gentle _click_ of the window's lock being turned. He did hear it though, and immediately all of his tension was back as he pushed himself up. Started to push himself up, anyway.

He placed his hands behind him on the couch, intending to get up, but before he could, Matt heard a cold soprano note as something cut through the air. The cool sting of cold metal landed across his throat. _Blades_ , Matt recognized. And not just any blades: double sai blades.

Matt froze, and a familiar voice spoke throatily in front of him, "Make a sound, and we'll kill everyone on this floor."

 _ **Thoughts? I honestly feel like the conversation with him, Karen, and Foggy was a little rough, so I'd love to know what you thought.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Sorry guys, short chapter today. Been a wee bit distracted lately, but I wanted to get this out :) Also, the sister who gave me the idea to write this had a birthday on Saturday and I wanted to get this out on Saturday for it, but I had a lot going on that day, so ... Happy late birthday, sis? XD**_

 _ **ALSO WE HAVE A RELEASE DATE, OCT 19! AND THAT PROMO? AND THOSE PICTURES?! DUDE I'M SO EXCITED!**_

 _ **Ahem. Back to the story.**_

"Elektra. You're alive." It wasn't a question. When the nuns had told him no one else had been found in the wreckage with him, Matt assumed she'd either escaped or had come back from the dead again.

"What was that I _just_ said about making a sound?"

"I'm not trying to attract any attention to us." Matt focused; he could hear the soft breathing of at least six other people in the apartment as well; all ninjas, all armed. He could taste their metal katanas through the sheaths. He knew starting a fight with this many ninjas around could prove fatal; he had to time his attack just right.

"I guess you're right. You never were one for following the rules anyway. Ironic, considering your choice of profession. Day time profession, anyway."

"How did you survive?"

"No thanks to you, that's for sure."

"You know if there had been another way out I would have taken it."

"There were several ways out, Matthew. You just didn't _want_ to see them. Oops, sorry. Poor choice of words."

"I wasn't going to let you continue your reign of terror on the city."

"This city is sick, Matthew."

"And death and destruction is the only cure?"

"See, you pick up quickly." Elektra was clearly trying to get a rise out of Matt, but the lawyer took in a deep breath, refusing to take her bait. A sigh forced its way through her lips when Matt refused to play along. "Come on, Matthew."

"How did you find me?"

"Mmm. It wasn't all that hard. All I had to do was have Franklin followed around until something happened. I knew you'd reach out to him or your other girl, it was just a matter of deciding which one was more likely. By the time my scout got back to me though, they'd already picked you up from the convent. I had to be very … persuasive for the nuns to even admit that you'd been there."

Matt hated the implication of her last sentence, but he pushed his disgusted feeling down. He had several questions burning the tip of his tongue, and thankfully he figured how to put them together into one. "Why take Sister Margaret if you knew where I was all along? If you were wanting to lure me out, why not just wait for me to come?"

"Oh please, Matthew. We both know who she is, you can just call her _Mum_."

Ice coated Matt's organs. "I don't … what …"

"Oh come on, Matthew. I've known for a while now."

"How?"

"Stick told me."

Even after everything that old man had done, Matt still felt the shock and surprise at finding out that Stick knew who his mother was. Not only that, but the fact that he'd told _Elektra_.

"He was worried if you knew who she was, you'd lose focus of what was important."

"I was never one of his soldiers," Matt spat. Elektra's blades pressed ever so harder against his neck, drawing the thinnest line of blood before she removed the blades completely.

"I don't care about Stick, or his reasons for not telling you. The fact is you know now. And that is why you're going to come with me."

Matt scoffed as he rubbed at his neck, shaking the few drops of blood off his hand. "Am I?"

"Well, I would hope so. Because even if Mummy couldn't get you to come out and play, I would think the fact that I've got your two friends might encourage you to come."

The ice coating Matt's insides melted as fire flowed through him. All thoughts of his own pain aside, the blind man surged to his feet, and he grabbed ahold of Elektra's wrists. He whirled around , placing the tip of one of her sais against her throat, using her as a human shield against the other ninjas in the room.

"Tell your guys to back down," Matt panted. His ribs were screaming, and his head began pounding, but he just took that pain, focused it, used it to fuel his movements.

Elektra let out a chuckle. Her throat bobbed against the blade as she did so, teasing the skin underneath the sharp point. "Now, now, Matthew. You should know me better than this. There are orders in place—orders to kill your friends if I'm not back soon."

"Why?" Matt growled, not relinquishing her wrists just yet.

"Uh … to see that I don't get killed while I'm gone?"

"No, I — why are you doing this? Taking my friends, Sister Margaret? You could have just left. No one would have known any different."

"Don't you remember, Matthew? I told you before. You belong by my side."

"So … so what, I come with you, and you let them live? You let them go?"

"As long as you don't fight me, yes. They will all be fine." There was silence for a moment. When Matt didn't immediately agree, Elektra prodded. "What do you say, Matthew?" she purred, relaxing even more in his grip. "Wanna take a trip?"

Matt's jaw was sore from clenching so hard, but after a few moments, Matt finally shoved Elektra away from him.

He heard the sharp needle before it was even uncapped. He caught the hand descending towards him, but he wasn't able to stop the second one that came at him without letting go of the first ninja.

The second needle stabbed into his neck, and Matt let out a sharp hiss of pain. The first ninja backed off unexpectedly, leaving Matt reeling from the sudden lack of pressure.

The liquid in Matt's bloodstream started out hot, then turned icy cold. And it didn't just freeze his blood. Matt tried to move his limbs, but found that they were non-responsive. Once he realized that, it was like his body realized it too. His knees buckled under him and he collapsed, the pressure behind his eyes building and letting him know that unconsciousness was just a blink or two away.

The world on fire dimmed to embers, and the last thing Matt sensed was Elektra above him, crouching down and stroking his hair.

"Just to make things a little easier, Matthew," she whispered. "I promise. Everything will be so much better when you wake up."

 _ **Next chapter is written, just have to go through and edit it, so hopefully it won't be as long between updates!**_

 _ **Lemme know what you think!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**See, I told you the wait wouldn't be as long XD plus my sister was very insistent that I get it posted tonight, so here's to you, sis XD**_

"Matthew."

Matt heard the voice, and he wanted to reach out and take the hand it was offering. He didn't quite know how to reach it though. It kept drifting just out of reach. Or maybe that was him.

"Matthew."

There it was again. This time though, Matt was able to grab ahold of it, and he used it as an anchor to pull himself back to the land of the living.

"That's it, Matthew. Come back."

There were only two women who called him by his full name. Thankfully, the person helping pull him back to reality didn't have an accent.

"Sister … Margaret."

There was a slight pause, and Matt could tell that what he'd called her struck a nerve. What could he say? She hadn't hit 'Mom' status yet.

"Yes … yes, it's me."

Matt struggled into an upright position, instinctively shrugging off the hand Sister Margaret placed on his back to help steady him. Most of him hadn't actually meant to push her away; it was just who he was. Being blind for most of his life, he got used to people always offering help, sometimes just helping without even offering, but it got old fast. Especially after his lessons with Stick, and honing his abilities enough that he could sense what was around him. Not that he could actually let anyone know that he could 'see' his surroundings. However, what was done was done, and Sister Margaret didn't seem to be too offended. Not that he could tell, anyway. No increase in heartbeat, breathing, or blood flow to indicate a change of emotion, so Matt decided to let it go.

"Where … do you know where we are?"

"I'm not sure … they knocked me out before we got here. We've been bobbing up and down though; it feels like a boat."

Matt's stomach clenched. Even without using his heightened senses, he knew she was right. He didn't know why he hadn't picked up on it earlier, the gentle bobbing up and down of a boat on the waves. In order to get more information though, he tilted his head to the side slightly, focusing. Just like in the apartment, he only focused on the sounds that mattered. Not only sound, either. He opened his mouth slightly, letting the wet, salty taste of the water outside permeate his mouth. Unfortunately, that was the only thing he could pick up on, the water. He couldn't hear anyone outside the room they were being kept in, but that was old news. If the ninjas weren't using weapons, he found it more than a little difficult to track them. Every now and then, he would catch a _whuff_ as one of them exhaled, but that was it. Suddenly something about that information struck him. There were _no_ heartbeats besides his and his mother's.

"Where are Foggy and Karen?" he asked. He had a feeling he knew what the answer was already though, and he was dreading the answer he knew was coming.

"Who?"

They're … they're the ones who came to the convent."

He knew what her answer was going to be before she even opened her mouth. "We're the only ones here, Matthew. I haven't seen your friends."

It really came as no surprise to Matthew that Elektra had lied to him about Foggy and Karen. That didn't mean he wasn't angry about it. Yelling wouldn't do anything though, so he took in a deep breath, as deep as he could, and let it out slowly. Finally, he tilted his head towards his mother. He could taste the dried blood in the air where a cut had scabbed over.

"Are you alright?"

A soft rustle of fabric told him the nun was moving her head. "I'm fine," she assured him. "Just a few cuts and bruises."

The slight tremor in her voice, as well as the shaking of her hands that he felt when she touched him, told Matt that while she may be 'fine' physically, emotionally was a whole other story.

He opened his mouth to press a little harder. It was his fault she was here, and he couldn't stop feeling responsible for her, even though she'd clearly not felt any responsibility for him growing up. He wasn't able to ask the question though. Before he could get anything out, he heard footsteps coming from outside. Just the simple fact that he heard the footsteps let him know who it was. It wasn't that he recognized the cocky saunter, it wasn't the fact that the person approaching was wearing outrageously priced boots, and it wasn't even the fact that he heard the all-too-familiar sigh as she stopped outside the door. Just the simple fact that she _wanted_ him to hear her coming was enough to let Matt know exactly who was outside.

As the heavy metal door ground open, a piercing shriek echoed through the room. Matt had to force himself to not make a move, even though it sounded like a thousand nails against chalkboards. No matter how hard she tried, Matt wasn't going to show that he was in pain.

Elektra's cold, condescending voice wafted through the air. "Hello, you two. How's the family reunion going?"

 _0-0-0_

Karen gulped down her coffee with barely a thought, too engrossed in the article she was working on. She was trying to keep herself busy with work, keep her mind off the blind man in her apartment. Her phone began buzzing, and she took a brief moment to glance at the caller ID. She didn't have whoever it was in her phone, and she thought about not answering, but something nudged her to pick it up anyway.

"This is Karen," she answered absently, still reading through her article. The voice on the other end began speaking rapidly though, and Karen tore her eyes away from the screen at what the woman was saying. "Woah, woah, Ellie, slow down! What happened?"

As Ellie explained that she'd gone to the apartment once and Matt was fine, but the second time she stopped by, no one answered the door, Karen released a deep sigh.

"And you're sure he's not … I dunno, in the bathroom, or wandering the halls or something?" Not that Karen actually believed either of those options. At Ellie's negative reply, Karen stood up and began gathering her things. "Okay. Thanks, Ellie. I'll be home soon." She hung up the phone. So much for keeping her mind off Matt.

She tried to calm her shaking hands by grabbing her coat and coffee, but doing so simply made the shaking more visible. Taking in deep breaths seemed to calm her down a little, but she was still fuming. Matt couldn't have waited a little longer to go all vigilante? He just had to get out of there as soon as he could?

Her determined footsteps down the bull pen attracted the attention of Ellison, who stuck his head out his door to see what was going on.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said, hurrying to catch up to her. "Where are you going?"

"I don't feel well," Karen replied curtly. It wasn't a lie.

"What about-"

"I sent you my article just now."

"Karen." Ellison grabbed her elbow gently, pulling her to a stop. "What is going on? You seemed so full of nervous energy yesterday, but now it's like that's all been sucked into the black hole of edginess."

"Sorry." Karen sighed and gently pulled her arm out of her boss's grip. "I just … it's been a weird twenty-four hours, and I think it's catching up to me. I just … really don't feel good."

Ellison stared at her, weighing her words carefully in his mind. Finally he nodded, though it was a reserved nod; one that said he wasn't sure he entirely believed her. Thankfully, he didn't press the matter. "'Kay. Go home, get yourself sorted out. I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning."

Karen forced a smile. "Thanks. See you then." With that, she turned and hurried out of the office, waiting until she was out of earshot of Ellison before pulling out her phone. "Foggy? Get back to my place. I think Matt left."

 _0-0-0_

"I can't believe Matt would be so stupid as to just up and leave!" Foggy fumed quietly. He thought about his words, then said, "Actually, I take that back. I _can_ believe it, I just don't want to."

"I know, I know, I'm just as mad about it as you are," Karen agreed as she pulled out her keys to get into the building. They hurried up the stairs, and when they reached Karen's apartment, she quickly unlocked the door. Just like Ellie had suspected, the place was empty. Karen glanced around the room, and tossed her keys on the counter in frustrated disbelief.

"Matt?" Foggy called out, even though they both knew the apartment was empty. They didn't need Matt's super senses to tell that. The blond lawyer gently squeezed past Karen and made his way to the bathroom, just to double check. Karen looked at him as he came back, but Foggy shook his head. The journalist ground her teeth together in frustration.

"Where did he go?" Foggy asked. The question was meant to be rhetorical, but Karen was just frustrated.

"Don't you think if I knew that, we'd be there instead of here?" At Foggy's slightly hurt expression, Karen changed her attitude. "I'm sorry, Foggy." She rubbed the back of her head absentmindedly as she glanced around her apartment. Suddenly, she spotted something out of the ordinary on her floor. While Foggy looked around, trying to glean by some unknown miracle where Matt had gone, Karen knelt down and gently dabbed at the substance. It definitely _hadn't_ been there when they'd left. She got a sick feeling in her stomach. Either Matt had reopened some of his wounds as he was leaving, or-

"Foggy?" she said. Her friend came over and crouched down next to her, staring at the liquid that was now dotting Karen's fingers. Foggy's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Is that-"

Karen nodded in confirmation. "Blood."

 _ **Sorry, I know it's still short, but it's been a crazy couple of days/weeks.**_

 _ **Lemme know what you think!**_


	7. Chapter 7

Matt surged to his feet the moment he heard Elektra's voice. Before he even reached her though, he heard a hum as a katana was pulled out of its sheath, and Sister Margaret let out a cry from behind. Matt froze.

"Ah, ah," Elektra cautioned in a patronizing tone. "I'd be very careful about what you do now, Matthew. It's not yourself or me that you need to worry about."

Matt wanted to lunge at Elektra, but the cold, tangy taste of the metal katana, along with the bitter poison he could smell and taste on the blade against his mother's neck was enough to make him freeze.

"You lied to me. I'm not surprised."

"It was the only way to get you to come without a fight. I mean, I could have my men go pick them up now, if you want me to have told the truth-"

"Leave them alone," Matt snapped, his muscles still taut as he kept telling himself not to lunge at the woman. He still had to come up with a way to get Sister Margaret out.

"You need to make up your mind," Elektra stated. "Do you want them here or don't you?"

"Elektra."

"Because really, I can have some men go get them right now." She turned to a few of the ninjas inside the room. "I need you to go get-"

"Elektra!" Matt shouted. The woman turned back to him, and he could practically _see_ her smirk. "Leave. Them. Alone."

The smirk turned into a pout. Matt couldn't see it, but he could hear the change in her voice. "Alright, Matthew. As long as you're good, I'll leave them alone."

"And what about Sister Margaret?"

"She's right here, Matthew, you don't have to talk about her like she's not in the room."

"Let her go," he growled. "You got what you wanted, you got me. She doesn't have anything to do with this."

"Matthew, Matthew, Matthew," Elektra tsked. "That's where you're wrong. You see, she has _everything_ to do with this. Or at least, her effect on you does."

"Elektra, I swear. I'll do whatever you want. Just stop involving unnecessary parties."

"Matthew." This time it was Sister Margaret who spoke.

"Don't move," Matt cautioned, not wanting her to get accidentally cut. "And don't talk."

"You _cannot_ tell me what to do, Matthew," Sister Margaret snapped.

"I'm not telling, I'm asking." Matt knew how flimsy _that_ sounded, and it was barely a truth. He was trying to get his mother off the ship, and he would do anything he could to accomplish that.

"Sounded a lot like telling to me," Elektra piped in. Matt narrowed his eyes in the direction of the Greek girl's voice.

"You, I _am_ telling. Back off."

"Oooh, testy," she said, clicking her tongue at him.

"Elektra, I did what you asked. I came with you. I'm here. Let her go."

Elektra sighed dramatically, but she didn't shoot down the idea immediately. "Elektra," Matt tried again, moving forward slowly, holding his hands out peacefully. "I swear, I will stay with you. Run away with you, just like we planned. Remember? It'll just be the two of us. We can get away from everything, everyone. Hell's Kitchen, The Hand, everything. Just … let her go."

Silence. For almost a minute. Matt started to think that she would listen to him. Unfortunately … "I wish I could believe you, Matthew. I think though, that the only way to make sure you love me, stay by my side, is to show you what happens when you disappoint me." She turned away from Matthew. "You may kill the woman."

"Elektra, NO!" Matt took another step forward, glad to hear that the katana hadn't descended on his mother yet. "That isn't love. That isn't you, your actions. This is The Hand, what they've taught you to do. What you're doing, it's based entirely off of fear."

"It's not just fear, Matthew. It's respect. And one day … one day you'll come to respect me for the choices I've had to make. For us."

"If you do this, I will fight against you every chance I have. I will never forgive you, and I will make you pay. Do you hear me Elektra? I will hold you responsible for this!"

The tense silence almost made Matt believe that Elektra was considering his words, his threats. Unfortunately, even if she did believe, she decided not to listen to them. She waved her hand dismissively. "We're done with her." Matt's heart plummeted at those words, but the next ones made him feel sick to his stomach, and deeper. "Get rid of her."

"No!"

His shout did nothing to stop the swing of the katana, so he did the only other thing he could think of. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he turned and dove in front of his mother. She had put her hands in front of her, as if trying to block the deadly swing of the blade, but the Devil of Hell's Kitchen made sure she wasn't hit.

After the blade sliced into his side, time sped back up, and Matt collapsed to the ground with a shout of pain. He laid there for less than ten seconds though before he pushed himself up on his hands and knees, refusing to leave his mother defenseless. As he forced himself to his feet, he discreetly put a hand to his side, feeling the wound. It wasn't a lethal shot. Deep, yes. Painful? Excruciatingly so. But not going to kill him. At least not yet. Either they had realized what was happening and tried to pull their attack, or they weren't going for a kill shot in the first place. Either one was probable, since he knew they had poison on their blades, meaning technically anything was lethal at this point, but still. It didn't really matter. Matt was just trying to think of anything, everything, to keep his mind off the fiery pain flowing through his body now.

"Matthew." The disappointment was clear in Elektra's voice. Matt could barely focus on it though, thanks to the painful surges making their way through his bloodstream. Elektra sighed, though with Matt's senses on the fritz the way they were, it sounded more like crackling static. Normally the harsh noise would have made him wince, but it was a gentle breeze compared to what was going on inside his body and bloodstream. The next words spoken didn't go unnoticed though.

"We're not getting through to him. We should cut our losses now."

Matt expected Elektra to immediately shoot that suggestion down, but she considered it. She did more than consider it.

"Do it. Take them below deck. Kill her. We'll collect his body once they're both dead."

" ... you … you want to use the substance on him?"

Matt could practically feel Elektra's stare boring holes into his skull.

"If he won't come with me willingly when he's alive, he'll do it when he's dead."

"I won't," Matt spat. The act of speaking sent waves of pain throughout his body, but he accepted the pain. Pain was good. Pain meant he was still alive. Pain meant he could fight back.

"It's cute, Matthew, that you think you'll have a choice," Elektra cooed.

Matt wanted to argue more, but at that moment, one of the ninjas came from behind and grabbed him, lifting him in the air. He couldn't stop the shout of pain that ripped itself from his throat. Every muscle felt as if it had been bitten by a bullet ant, shot, steamrolled, and then set on fire, and jostling them just made them feel even worse.

Dimly, Matt heard the thousand nails on the chalkboard again, and he was forced out the door into what felt like an extremely cramped and narrow hallway. Or maybe that was just his senses converging in on themselves. Either way, they weren't in the hallway for long thankfully, and soon Matt felt the sun kiss his skin. It didn't do anything to lessen the pain, but it did give him an idea.

The water was all around them, but Matt could actually hear traffic in the distance. Meaning that they weren't that far from shore. The ninja holding Sister Margaret was right next to him, and Matt briefly heard her breathing, fast and light. It wasn't hyperventilation, but rather the expectancy that one would feel when something was about to happen. So, she'd had the same idea. Good.

Once again, Matt took the pain coursing through his body, along with all the anger and frustration he was feeling, and he used it as fuel. One minute, he was being painfully dragged across the deck of whatever boat they were on, the next, the blind lawyer was throwing the ninja over his shoulder, then running for his mother. Behind him, he could hear Elektra yelling at her men, but Matt didn't pay attention to it. He simply bowled over the warrior holding his mother, grabbed Sister Margaret around the waist, and jumped over the side in a split second. Like he suspected, she didn't fight him or even seem surprised.

The only problem Matt could find as he hit the water was the fact that none of his heightened senses could work under water. Now, submerged in the salty liquid, he truly was blind.

 _0-0-0_

"I mean," Foggy said as he caught up with Karen, whose long, quick strides were making it slightly difficult to keep up with. "He wasn't bleeding anywhere when we left him, right? So he probably didn't leave on his own?"

"I don't know," Karen replied. "I didn't see any fresh cuts, but he did have scabs that could have reopened. Wait." She stopped, but Foggy was walking so fast he had to turn around and walk back to her.

"Wait … for what?"

"What about his nurse friend?"

"Nurse frie-Claire? You think he might have gotten hurt and gone to Claire?"

"I mean, it's worth a shot," Karen said with a shrug.

"But why wouldn't he call _us_ if he were hurt?"

"I don't know, Foggy, but this is the only lead we've got," Karen said, clearly trying to not snap at her friend.

Foggy heard the strain in Karen's voice and remembered that they were on the same side. "Okay, you're right. Let's give Claire a call."

"You have her number?"

"Ever walked in on Matt unconscious, bleeding out on the floor?"

"I … no?"

"Yeah, well, once you have, you'll get the number of his nurse too." Foggy pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts before he finally found Claire's number. He hit the contact info and held the phone up to his ear as he and Karen stepped off of the busy street. It was getting late, and Foggy knew they didn't have a lot of time before night fell. He wanted to find Matt before then.

" _Hello?"_

"Claire? It's Foggy. Foggy Nelson."

" _Right. Hey Foggy. How's it going?"_ Claire didn't sound upset, but she didn't sound exactly pleased to hear from Foggy either.

"Uh … could be better. Listen, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but … have you spoken with our mutual friend lately?"

" _Foggy, that's not funny."_ No matter how much Claire got annoyed with Matt, his death still hit her, hard. She wasn't expecting a joke like that to come from his best friend, either.

"No, Claire, I'm serious. We don't know how yet, but he … he somehow survived Midland Circle."

" _Not possible, that was three hundred feet of building that collapsed on him."_

"I know that, and I didn't want to believe it either." He went on and explained how Matt had called him, and how Foggy hadn't believed it at first. "I swear, Claire. He's alive. We even had him at Karen's place."

" _Why am I not surprised that Matt Murdock defied death again?"_ came the mumbled reply. It was a rhetorical question, but it was about all Claire could manage without freaking out at the revelation that Matt was still alive. " _Wait. What do you mean, 'had'?"_

"We got back to her apartment, and he was gone, despite promising us that he'd wait for us to get back. There was blood on the floor when we got there, and we wondered if he'd just gotten injured, or reopened one of his wounds and came to you."

" _I … no, I haven't seen or heard anything from him,"_ Claire said apologetically.

Foggy sighed. "It was worth a shot. Let us know if you do hear anything from him?"

" _Of course."_

"Thanks Claire."

Foggy hung up the phone and shook his head, looking over at Karen. "Matt, where are you?"

 _ **Okay, thoughts? :D Did I keep them in character OK?**_

 _ **Lemme know what you thought!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**This is very quickly becoming one of my longer stories, though I don't think it should have too many more chapters. I want to finish it before the premier of the new season, which HOLY CRAP THAT TRAILER *Insert heart eye emojis***_

 _ **Anyway, slightly longer chapter than the more recent ones have been! So hope you enjoy!**_

 _ **I don't own Daredevil or Marvel**_

Margaret broke the surface first, sucking in a deep breath of air while trying to clear her lungs of the salty water without drawing attention to herself. Once she was breathing semi-normally again, she looked around; they'd drifted far enough away from the boat and had been under water long enough that Elektra and her men couldn't tell where they were, especially with night approaching as fast as it was, so she wasn't that worried about being spotted. Still a concern, but not as big as getting her and her son out of the water. Suddenly her eyes widened. Matthew! Where was he?

She couldn't see, and the salt water stung her eyes when she tried to duck below the surface of the water again, but that didn't stop her from swimming around, trying to feel for something, anything, to let her know where her son was.

After almost two minutes of searching, Margaret was ready to shout her son's name in frustration, even if it meant giving away her position to the people on the ship, but right as she got ready to scream, her hand brushed a piece of fabric. It was gone in an instant, but it was enough for Margaret to renew her hope. She whirled around in the water, and as she moved, her leg hit something sturdy. Another body. She dove, and when she was submerged, her hands brushed against the fabric again. Instead of letting it drift away this time, she grabbed it and held tight, forcing them both towards the surface.

As she gripped her son under his arms, she shook her head, trying to shake the salt water out of her eyes, and began trying to swim one-handed towards the shore. They were so close. She could see land in the last rays of light, but she couldn't make it. Futilely, she tried simply kicking the rest of the way, not using her arms at all, but that was even less effective than swimming one-armed had been.

"Matthew?" Margaret was struggling to stay afloat in the water as she supported not only herself, but her barely-conscious son as well. "Matthew, you have to help me, son. Come on. Please. Help me." She whispered the last three words as if in prayer.

Somehow, she found the strength to get them the rest of the way to shore, but once she was out of the water, it suddenly became much harder carrying her son. She ended up dragging him as far as she could, then collapsed on her knees next to her side. Fingers on his neck, she desperately searched for a pulse. One that wasn't there.

"Okay, Matthew, this isn't going to feel good," she muttered as she positioned herself over her son. She placed her hands on her sternum and began compressions. Thankfully she didn't even need to begin mouth to mouth before Matt was coughing the water out of his lungs. While he was recovering, Margaret lifted his shirt to examine his wound, and she let out a small gasp as she saw what was happening.

Black lines were spreading out from almost every point on the wound. They were only a few inches, but they were slowly getting further and further up his torso.

"What is that?"

Matt spit out a little more water. "Poison," he said shortly. Not in a cross way, more of an 'I-almost-drowned-please-don't-ask-me-to-talk-a-lot-right-now' kind of way. "On their blades."

"What kind of poison? Lethal? How much time before-"

"Not long. Should have been worse by now." Matt almost sounded intrigued by the poison and the slow effect it was having. "The salt … it slowed the poison a little. Won't hold for long," Matt panted.

"We have to get you to a hospital," Margaret announced. Matt grabbed her arm and prevented her from moving.

"No. No … no hospitals."

"Matthew-"

"I've got a friend. She can help."

"A friend? The one you mentioned earlier? When you said you could give me the number of someone who knows how difficult you can be?"

Matt let out a pained chuckle. "That's the one."

"I really think we just need to take you-"

"No hospitals. They don't have a cure."

"You know a cure?"

"Yeah, but … we gotta hurry."

Margaret chewed her lip nervously as she glanced around, but she knew she didn't have much of a choice. Matt would fight her every step of the way going to a hospital, which would spread the poison even faster. For now, she would trust him and his friend. She promised herself though, that if he got any worse, she would knock him out and drag him to a hospital if necessary.

"Alright. Who's your friend?"

"Claire. Claire Temple."

 _0-0-0_

There was a frantic pounding on the door. Claire and Luke looked up from the movie they were watching on their couch, wondering who was knocking on their door so late. When whoever it was didn't leave and began pounding again, more incessantly, and without any indication of stopping, Luke finally stood up and made his way over to the door.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming."

Confusion lined his face when he opened the door and saw a soaking wet nun standing there, looking behind her as if to see if anyone was there. "Oh, I'm sorry Sister. Uh … How can I-" Suddenly the nun turned fully towards Luke and he noticed she wasn't alone. She was supporting someone, holding them up. "Sweet Christmas," he breathed when he realized who it was.

Claire got off the couch, curious to see what was taking so long, but she pulled up short at the sight.

"Please," the nun said, trembling under the weight of someone Claire had, until recently, believed dead. "Help."

"Get him inside," Claire ordered, leaving the room to gather supplies. Luke didn't even have to be told. He was already moving forward, and he relieved the sister of her burden, lifting Matt like he weighed nothing.

"Careful," the nun said, reluctant to let go.

"What happened?" Claire asked as she came back in with a medical kit. She swept everything off the kitchen table, allowing a space for Luke to lay the unconscious man down. While Matt was being situated, Claire opened the kit and grabbed a pair of disposable gloves, which she pulled on with a _snap_.

"Matt?" she said, peeling his eyelid back and pressing her fingers against his wrist to find his pulse. "How long has he been unconscious?" This question was directed at his companion.

"Ten minutes, maybe less," the nun supplied.

"You don't seem as shocked as I am that he's alive," Luke pointed out.

"Uh, Foggy called a little while ago."

"Foggy? My lawyer, Foggy?"

"That's the one." Claire was doing her best to not snap at Luke, but she saw the bleeding wound on Matt's side and immediately ignored her boyfriend. It wasn't any regular wound. Claire cursed. "What _is_ that?" she asked, prodding gently at the black streaks on Matt's skin.

"The blade that cut him was poisoned."

"Well, do you know what kind of poison?" When the nun shook her head, Claire let out a long sigh. "I don't know if there's anything I can do without knowing what it was."

"He started to tell me that he knew an antidote," the nun replied. "He was only able to tell me about baking soda and toilet bowl cleaner before he passed out though."

"What kind of antidote takes _toilet bowl cleaner_?" Luke asked, though he was already heading for the cupboard for the baking soda.

"One that Matt needs to be awake to tell us about," Claire said regretfully. "Matt?" She slapped his pasty-white cheeks lightly, trying to get him to wake up, as well as trying to add a bit of color to his face. The only people Claire had seen paler were bodies in a morgue. "Matt!" Still, there was no response. She looked around, dreading what she knew she had to do. "I'm sorry," she whispered, biting her lip. Then, without waiting, she pressed down hard on his wounded side. The nun let out a cry of alarm, and even Luke stepped forward, wondering if he needed to intervene. "MATT. Wake. Up." Claire kept pressing until Matt shot up from the table. Or, he tried to shoot up. He let out an agonized cry as he jostled his wound, and Claire put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving too much.

Matt clearly didn't know where he was, because he threw a couple punches, trying to fight his way out of the situation.

"Woah! Matt!" Claire ducked out of the way of one of his fists and looked at Luke expectantly. Obligingly, Luke reached out and grabbed Matt's wrists, holding him fast. Matt grunted and yelled, but Claire put a hand on his cheek.

"Matt, hey. Matt, it's me." At her voice, Matt immediately stilled, tilting his head.

"Cl … Claire?"

"Yeah, hey," she said, allowing a brief smile to cross her face. Matt relaxed, and at Claire's nod, Luke released the blind man's fists. Matt panted at the force he'd just exerted, and his eyes began drifting closed again. "Nuh-uh," Claire said, the urgency back in her voice. She snapped her fingers in front of his face, and he opened his sightless eyes again. "Antidote," she said, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "Matt. What's the antidote?"

Matt opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, he just let out a garbled mess of grunts, and he clenched his teeth in pain. His back arched off the table, as if it were trying to do anything to get away from the pain.

"Matt, Matt, Matt, hey. Hey, I know it hurts, but you gotta help me. Tell me the antidote, and I can make the pain stop. We know baking soda, and toilet bowl cleaner? Is that right?"

Matt was able to calm his jerky motions down enough for Claire to make out a nod.

"Whi-Whiskey," he whispered. "Mix … all together."

"What kind of antidote is that?" Luke asked, not sure if he believed it.

"One that's hopefully going to work," Claire replied. Luke just sighed, but he went down the hall to the bathroom. "Luke, hurry," Claire called out, her heart rate spiking as Matt's eyes rolled back in his head. "No, no, Matt, you gotta stay awake." Nothing she did could wake the blind man, thought he did continue to twitch, and he even let out a soft groan. Claire had seen the man beaten almost to death, cut to ribbons, as well as bleeding out in a trash can, but she'd never seen him like this. This was new, and it terrified her.

"How long ago was he stabbed?" she asked the nun. She was curious as to who the sister was, but at the moment her priority was keeping Matt alive.

"I don't … maybe thirty minutes?"

"How is he still alive?" Claire was examining the black streaks on Matt's torso, and from what she figured about the poison, it should have killed him by now. Then she thought about it, and she asked herself if she really knew that much about a foreign poison, and even if she had, this was Matt Murdock. It was his daily goal to piss death off as much as possible.

"He knocked us into the bay," the nun replied. "He told me the salt had slowed the spread of the poison."

As much as Claire was dying to know what exactly had happened and why they needed to jump in a bay, she held her tongue. The important thing now was that Matt _was_ still alive. If she didn't act fast though, he wouldn't be for much longer.

"Luke!"

"Here," he said, appearing out of nowhere and handing her the whiskey and toilet bowl cleaner, along with a bowl to mix them in.

Claire literally had no idea what she was doing, or what the proportions needed to be, but she figured they right now was no time to be stingy. She dumped the baking soda into the bowl, sending up a puff of white, then poured the whiskey and cleaner into the bowl as well. Luke seemed to know what she needed, and he'd already grabbed a fork from the drawer, which she pulled from his grasp with a quick and muttered, "Thanks," before she stirred the contents together. Once everything was mixed together as well as it could be, she turned back to her patient, faltering when she saw how shallow his breathing was. Steeling herself though, she lifted up his shirt again, but sighed in frustration at the sight.

"What?" the nun asked. "What's wrong?"

"The wound's too closed off," Claire said.

"Closed off? How can it be closed off? It's a sword wound." Luke was confused.

"The water," the sister supplied, a tone of understanding in her voice. Claire looked up, surprised.

"Right. The salt _did_ help slow the poison a little, but the moisture made the wound swell up and close." She sat back and quickly reached for a scalpel from her kit. "I'm gonna have to open him up more in order to get … whatever this is inside." She looked around. "We need something for him to bite down on, otherwise he's gonna bite his tongue off."

"Got it." Luke stepped forward. For a minute Claire thought he was going to use one of his fingers, and she was going to argue that Matt could break his teeth, but Luke simply pulled off his belt and placed it inside Matt's mouth. The lawyer didn't even flinch.

"Okay, Sister? I'm going to need your help. Once I cut into him, we have to get this antidote inside him. So I'm going to need you to pour it while I hold the wound open."

The nun looked physically sick, but she didn't argue. She just stepped forward and grabbed the bowl, preparing herself. As Claire lowered the scalpel down, she saw the nun cross herself. Luke was holding Matt's shoulders down, anticipating a fight. Finally, knowing it was now or never, Claire pierced Matt's skin with the scalpel and began slicing.

Matt's eyes shot open and he jerked, trying to sit up again, but thanks to Luke, he couldn't move. Claire heard the grinding of teeth on leather as Matt strained against the pain he was being put through.

"Sister, now!"

With barely a moment of hesitation, the nun proceeded to pour the vile ingredients into Matt's open wound.

The belt fell to the floor as Matt opened his mouth in a soundless scream, but that wasn't his only reaction. He brought his hands up and tried punching his way out again, and his legs began flailing. He was a caged animal fighting to get out. Fighting for survival.

Claire was trying to hold the wound open enough for the nun to continue pouring the antidote, but with Matt bucking as much as he was, it was becoming increasingly difficult. Thankfully, Luke could see that, and he stepped around the other side of the table. One of his hands wrapped around Matt's flailing fists, grabbing them and holding them tight. To keep Matt's legs from doing any damage, Luke had to lay his entire forearm across Matt's thighs and lean, hard. It was still a bumpy ride, but Claire and the nun were able to continue pouring the antidote. Finally, the last of the liquid was poured into Matt's wound, and as soon as the constant flow stopped, so did Matt's silence. He was able to take in a deep breath, and with air came sound.

It struck Luke as odd that Matt's shouts of pain came after the application of the antidote, but Claire knew that sometimes, it just happened. However, she couldn't have anyone call the cops on a domestic violence report, so she nodded at Luke, and he released Matt's legs in order to reach over and cover the man's mouth.

It took a few minutes, a few _agonizing_ minutes for Matt to finally slip back into unconsciousness, which Claire would allow now. The black streaks had begun clearing up thankfully, and though no color had returned to Matt's cheeks, when she checked his pulse, she found it much stronger than it had been previously.

"You gonna sew him up?" Luke asked as Claire pressed a gauze pad against Matt's injuries, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Yeah," the nurse confirmed. "Not gonna have him bleed out after all _that_. I need water to clean the wound first though."

"I'll get it," the nun offered, but Claire shook her head.

"No, not you. I think it's time we talked about what just happened."

 _ **Okay ... thoughts? :D**_


	9. Chapter 9

**_I'm glad people are still enjoying the story! We're nearing the end. This chapter, one more, and then a short epilogue is what I'm thinking._**

 ** _I don't own Marvel or Daredevil_**

 _Pain._

That was the only thing registering in Matt's brain. It was overriding every other sense he had. It came from everywhere, from every single muscle in his tired, battered body.

"Matt?"

Matt tried turning towards whoever had spoken. He knew that voice. It was familiar, safe. A hand rested upon his forehead, and though he tensed up, expecting pain as soon as she touched him, all her hand brought was a warm sensation that even brought slight, temporary relief from his headache.

"Claire," he breathed.

"Hey." He could hear the smile in her voice, a genuine, warm gesture. Matt tried to sit up, but when he tightened his core to help him move, he let out a gasp of pain and immediately stopped.

"Yeah, I wouldn't try moving if I were you," Claire admonished. "Here." She pressed a glass into one hand, and four Advil into the other one.

Matt gulped the pills gratefully, then chased them down with water before he asked, "Where … where are we?"

"My apartment in Harlem," she replied. She took the glass from Matt's hand as he reached out to set it on the coffee table.

Matt heard others talking in the room next door. He recognized Luke's deep chocolate timbre, as well as Sister Margaret's lighter-pitched voice. He didn't try and make out what they were saying. That would take concentration that he was wanting to put towards getting up.

"Sister Margaret. She's okay?"

Claire's hair _swished_ as she turned her head to look after the nun and her boyfriend. "Shaken up, but she seems okay physically."

"Did she tell you what happened?"

A sigh. One of resignation. "Yeah. The Hand is back. Again."

"Not the whole organization. I don't think so, anyway. It's just Elektra and a group of soldiers."

"Yeah, Sister Margaret told me what you did. You're lucky that the salt _did_ slow the poison, Matt, or else we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"C'mon, Claire," Matt said, letting a smile briefly cross his face as he imagined her staring down at him with exasperation. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

"No, and apparently three hundred feet of debris dropping in you won't do it either," Claire teased. Matt huffed a chuckle. "Matt," Claire said, the lighter tone dropping from her voice. "I know the Sister is the one who saved you, but … who is she?"

"She didn't tell you?" Matt honestly wasn't sure if he was surprised or not.

"No, she said it was up to you to decide, whatever that means."

 _So,_ Matt thought. _I decide if she's my mother. I decide whether she stays in my life or not._

Before he could answer Claire's question, he suddenly tilted his head towards the door. Claire knew that look, and immediately moved and grabbed a metal bat from behind the couch.

"No," Matt said, recognizing familiar heartbeats of the two newcomers. "It's fine. You called Foggy and Karen?"

"Foggy called me earlier," Claire confessed as she set the bat down and went towards the front door. "He's the only reason I wasn't nearly as shocked as I should have been when you once again showed up on my doorstep half dead."

"Sorry," Matt said quietly.

"At least you're alive," Claire said as she walked towards the front door. "To me, that's all that matters right now." With that, she gripped the handle and pulled open the front door. She was met with the sight of Foggy raising his fist to knock, which he then lowered.

"Thanks for the call," he greeted as Claire invited him and Karen inside.

"Thanks for the heads up," was the nurse's reply. "He's over there, on the couch."

Matt heard Foggy's footsteps marching towards him, and he could tell by the pace, how hard his heart was beating, and the salty sweat drenching his collar that his friend was worried. Worried and angry.

"Foggy, wait," Claire tried cautioning, but Foggy was bound and determined to find out where his friend had disappeared to.

"Matt, there are some times I just _cannot_ believe you," he snapped as he approached the couch. "You couldn't even keep this one promise to me and Karen, and-"

He suddenly stopped talking as he came around and saw his friend, the massive bandage covering the wound on his side. Foggy swore, and Karen quickly came over to see what was wrong. She let out a small gasp, which she tried to stifle by covering her mouth.

"What happened?" the blonde woman asked as she looked her friend up and down.

"Ninjas," Matt replied. "I didn't go looking for them, Foggy," he added, answering his friend's unasked question. "They found me."

"What did they want, a pound of flesh?" Karen asked incredulously. "Payback for what you did to them at Midland Circle?"

"Not exactly. It was Elektra."

Foggy swore again. "Man, that woman just won't die." He looked over at Matt. "Sorry."

"So, what did she want? She kidnapped you?" Karen asked in clarification.

"They wanted me to … join them."

Before anyone could respond to that, Sister Margaret and Luke came out from the other room. "Foggy," Luke greeted.

"Luke," Foggy replied, slightly shocked to see his client, along with his friend's newfound mother. "So what's the game plan now then?" he asked, looking back to Matt. "Did she leave? Is she gone?" Even to Foggy, the hope sounded ridiculous.

"Doubt it," Matt said, gripping the back of the couch and helping himself up, against Claire's many protests.

"You have to rest, recover," she said, trying to keep him down. It was Matt though, and when he set his mind to something, there was very little anyone could do to stop him.

"I can rest and recover once The Hand is out of the city," he replied, pushing her hand away and doing his best not to snap.

"Yeah? And why are they gonna leave? You said it yourself, Matt. They apparently want you. Why would they stop?"

Before he could answer, Matt's phone buzzed, the automatic voice chirping "Unknown, unknown, unknown," as it rang.

"It's her," Matt announced quietly.

"How do you know that? It could just be a sales call." Claire didn't even sound like she believed herself as she spoke.

Matt held out his hand.

"Matt, I don't think it's a good idea for you to engage with her," Karen said, folding her arms across her chest.

"I'm with your friend," Luke echoed.

Sister Margaret added in her two cents. "Make that three."

" _Unknown, unknown, unknown."_

"Just let her think you died," Foggy suggested.

"If she thinks I died, she's going to come for my body," Matt argued. Suddenly, he withdrew his hand, a contemplative look crossing his face.

"What?" Foggy asked. "What are you thinking? I don't like that face."

"First of all, this is my regular face. Second, Claire. I need you to do something for me, but … you're not gonna like it."

"Why?" Claire's tone was clearly one of hesitancy and exasperation, even though she didn't even know what Matt wanted her to do yet.

"I need you to kill me."

 _0-0-0_

Elektra stared down at the little apartment, a cold smirk playing on her lips. Deftly, she leapt from the roof onto the fire escape down below. Tracking Matthew's phone had been easy. All it took was a little threatening of a tech guy and … well, she was here to take Matthew back with her. That was all that mattered.

As she reached the ground, she melted into the shadows of the building across the street. She'd spotted movement coming from inside, and within a few seconds, the door opened, revealing a large man wearing a hoodie. Elektra recognized him; he was one of the four who fought against The Hand. Elektra smirked. If there had been any doubt in her mind that Matthew was here, now she knew without a shred of doubt.

The large man looked all around before he took off down the street, clearly in a hurry. Once he was out of sight, Elektra made her way towards the building.

The door wasn't even locked. Elektra simply turned the handle and let herself in. Inside was pure chaos. Everyone was looming over a couch where Matthew lay, shouting or shaking him as they tried to wake him up. Elektra didn't have Matthew's ability to hear heartbeats, but it was fairly obvious to tell that his wasn't beating. His head was lolled limply to the side, eyes closed, and his arm had fallen off the couch in a very dramatic fashion. As soon as she opened the door, everyone looked up, fear and apprehension on their faces. Good. They knew who she was. That would make things easy.

"I'll take it from here, thanks," she drawled, walking forward. Foggy stepped in front of her, crossing his arms. Elektra was mildly impressed with how bold he was.

"You're not going anywhere with him," he growled, though his voice trembled as he stood in front of Elektra.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," she cautioned, drawing her sai blades out an inch or two to show she wasn't afraid to get dirty to get Matthew's body. "Now step aside."

One of the women, the blonde, stepped forward and stood with Foggy, refusing to let Elektra pass as well. With a sigh, Elektra drew her blades the rest of the way out. She glanced at Sister Margaret. "Good to see you again, Maggie." The nun glared at Elektra, but one glance at her blades had the sister staying right where she was.

The dark-haired woman over Matthew stood up as well, grabbing a baseball bat from beside the couch. She held it up defensively, and the four of them created a barricade between her and Matthew's body.

"I'd step back if I were you," Elektra cautioned as she moved forward.

"I'd rethink what you're gonna do here if I were you," the dark-haired woman threatened, mimicking Elektra's tone. "Seriously," she said when Elektra didn't stop. "I will mess you up if you don't stop right there!"

"It really is cute that you think you can stop me," Elektra said patronizingly. "But I don't think this is a fight you're going to want to engage in."

"Try me," the nurse growled.

"Try us," amended the blonde woman. Elektra glanced over, and watched as she pulled a gun out of her clutch. Even her companions seemed surprised.

"Geez Karen," Foggy exclaimed. "Where'd that come from?"

"Does it matter?" Karen snapped. "What matters is that I will use this to stop you from taking him."

"I don't doubt you would," Elektra said slowly as she examined Karen. There was a slight tremor in the woman's voice, but her hands were steady. Elektra was more trained though. With a flick of her wrist, one blade hit the gun out of Karen's hands while the other landed against Karen's throat, right under her chin. A chilled silence settled over the room, none of them wanting to test how far Elektra would go. They didn't need to test it. They knew.

"Now," Elektra said pleasantly. Or, as pleasantly as it could sound when you had your sword against someone's neck. "I'm going to take Matthew, unless anyone else has anything they'd like to say?" She focused specifically on the nurse, who was still holding the bat in the air. "I know how much you all mean to Matthew, so I would really rather not have to kill any of you, but I will."

"You were willing to kill me earlier," Sister Margaret accused. Elektra shrugged.

"Things change."

"Bull," Foggy snapped.

"Something Matthew said when I had him earlier struck me. I realized that if I kill anyone Matthew loves, it would kill his love for me, at least for a time. While I am willing to work to gain that love back, it would just be so much easier for all of us if you just let me take him, _without_ me having to lose his love."

"So you can bring him back as one of your zombie fighters?" Karen asked harshly.

"I am giving him a second chance at life," Elektra said in exasperation.

"He wouldn't have needed that if you hadn't sliced him open!" Claire exploded, her fingers twitching on the bat.

"Or if you had just stayed out of his life," Foggy added.

"I'm not here to have a conversation with you," Elektra said with a sigh. "I'm here to collect Matthew's body."

"You'll have to go through us." Claire swung the bat at Elektra's head, but the Greek girl had faster reflexes. She pulled her blade away from Karen's neck and held up the dual blades to block the attack, kicking out and catching Claire in the ribs. The nurse tumbled backwards with a grunt, but before any of the others could attack her, and before she could let herself go and kill any of them, she jumped forward, scooped Matthew off the couch, and ran for the window. The glass shattered around her as she escaped with Matthew's limp form, disappearing into the night almost instantly.

 _0-0-0_

"Are we sure we should have let her go?" Foggy asked as he helped Claire get to her feet, doubt gnawing a pit in his stomach. Karen and Sister Margaret were staring out the window, their expressions clearly indicating they were feeling the same.

"No I'm not," Claire said, chewing her bottom lip. "But it's done now. We've just gotta trust Matts knows what he's doing."

 _ **Thoughts? Theories? Constructive criticism? S3 comments?**_

 _ **Let me know what you think!**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Okay, here's the last chapter! I thought about making the second half a separate chapter, the epilogue, but I figured it would just be easier to squish them together.**_

 _ **So if you guys follow my other stories, you'll know that I'm not the best at endings. Like. I seriously suck at writing endings. And this one in particular was hard for me, and I'm not sure why. I think it's because we finally got trailers for S3, and it comes out tomorrow, and I just started panicking because that's who I am and what I do XD I overthink things. So I know this chapter is abrupt, and I know the characters are OOC, but here it is. I've also been super tired lately, and my brain has been running at about half speed, so that's another reason it's an extremely rough chapter.**_

 _ **Sorry, I'll stop yammering. Just please don't hate me XD**_

 _ **I don't own Marvel or Daredevil.**_

Luke followed Elektra, who had Matt slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He made sure to stay back, and not once did the woman turn around as if she were suspicious that she was being followed. Not that Luke let himself get lulled into a false sense of security. He had a feeling she knew she was being followed; she just didn't care.

After several minutes, they finally reached the docks, and Elektra made her way over to a fairly large boat. As she disappeared below deck, Luke pulled out his phone and quickly sent a text to Claire, letting her know where they were. Then, he made his way on board as well, one hand in his pocket, running his fingers over a syringe.

He didn't make it very far before a couple ninjas set upon him, but they were mainly using their katanas, which simply sparked off his body. With an exasperated sigh, Luke grabbed the head of one of his attackers and threw him into the other warriors. Once his attackers were dealt with, Luke began down his way through the ship again. He went down the same stairs Elektra had, but there was no one there. With apprehension in his step, Luke continued down the hallway, passing several doors along the way. He passed by one doorway, and from out of nowhere a kick sent him sprawling to the side. From past experience, he knew that there were only a handful of people able to move him without help from outside sources. One of those people happened to be a resurrected ninja-girl. Luke righted himself and turned to face Elektra.

"Nice to see you again," she said, hands on her blades, ready to pull them out at a moment's notice.

"Listen, just give me back Matt, and leave New York. No one else has to get hurt."

"Aw, that's cute," Elektra said condescendingly. "But Matthew is coming with me. Sorry. We'll leave New York though, if that's what you really want."

"Matt is non-negotiable," Luke growled.

"Then I'm afraid our dealings are over." Elektra didn't sound disappointed at all. In fact, Luke could have sworn he detected a bit of a thrill in her voice. She smirked, then launched herself at Luke, throwing punches and kicks as she tried to knock him off balance.

As they were fighting, Luke managed to get a look inside the room Elektra had just come from. He saw Matt lying on a table next to a large container that looked suspiciously like a coffin. That was all he was able to see though before he had to put all of his attention back to fighting Matt's crazy ex-girlfriend. It took some maneuvering, but he finally managed to draw her into the room with Matt. Once he was close enough, he kicked out and caught Elektra in the gut, shoving her far enough away from him that he finally had time to pull out the syringe and plunge it into Matt's chest.

The black man didn't have time to wait for the contents of the syringe to take effect before Elektra was back, this time swinging her swords, even though they did nothing to him. It seemed to be taking an exceptionally long time, and Luke wondered if he'd been too late.

Suddenly Matt let out a huge gasp and arched on the table.

 _0-0-0_

" _Kill you?" Claire asked incredulously as she stared down at Matt._

" _Not for long," Matt replied._

" _Oh, not for long. This isn't a good idea, Matt. Your body can't take much more of a beating before it gives out."_

" _This is me, Claire," Matt reminded her with a smirk. When he could tell she wasn't amused by the fact that her heart rate stayed the same and the breaths coming from her nostrils remained agitated, he sighed. "Listen. She's gonna come for my body, just like I said. She'll take me to wherever they're storing the substance, and once we're there, it'll be easy to take everything out."_

" _Easy, huh?" Claire threw her hands up in exasperation. "And how are you going to do that, Matt? You can barely move!"_

" _That's why we're going to need someone who can take a beating." Matt's sightless gaze slowly drifted over towards Luke, whose eyes widened._

 _0-0-0_

"Very clever," Elektra commented as she watched Matt get off the table. "But what was the purpose here? You know that eventually I'll win."

"Not if you die, you won't," Matt panted. Elektra smirked.

"Matthew, you know I'll just come back," she stated.

Matt smiled, cold and knowing.

 _0-0-0_

" _You can't be serious," Claire said. "Blow it up? Do_ you _happen to have any C-4 lying around? I think we used our whole supply blowing Midland Circle." The sarcasm in her voice wasn't lost on Matt, but he chose to ignore it._

" _We've got to do something," he argued. "She won't believe an empty threat."_

" _I'm not doing this again," Luke argued. He hadn't even wanted to blow up Midland Circle. "You said that if we blew that building, that would be it. The Hand would be gone."_

" _The Hand is gone," Matt replied, sounding exhausted. "It's just Elektra and a handful of followers. They're not The Hand. All she cares about is the substance that brings them back to life."_

" _And you," Foggy added._

 _0-0-0_

"Matthew," Elektra purred. "We're supposed to be together. You've said it yourself. You even offered to come away with me just a few hours ago."

"That was when I was trying to stop you from killing my mother," Matt argued.

"Hold on, your what?" Luke asked in surprise. Matt and Elektra both ignored him.

"We can have that second chance, Matthew. Just come with me. We can leave New York behind. Forget about Daredevil, Hell's Kitchen, all the other problems we've always had. We only need each other."

"Six months ago, I would have agreed with you," Matt replied. "But you're not the same girl I wanted to be with."

"I'm still me, Matthew. I'm just a more perfect version of me than I was back then."

"Prove it," Matt said. "Leave all of this behind. The substance, your men, all of it."

"Matthew, the substance is what brought us back together. Without it, I'd still be in a wooden box."

"That's right. But now you can leave it. You're back. And if we're leaving this life behind, there's no reason to keep it around." Matt heard Luke shifting around behind him uncomfortably, unsure what to do with himself while Matt and Elektra had their argument.

"Accidents can happen, Matthew," Elektra pointed out. "Wouldn't you want to have some of this around just in case?"

"Elektra." Matt was clearly done arguing and debating. "Leave my city, or I _will_ blow us all sky high."

"And how are you going to do that?" Elektra asked patronizingly.

"Not me."

Matt's ex-girlfriend suddenly seemed to remember that they weren't alone, and she looked back at Luke.

"I wouldn't test him," Luke said with a shrug, pulling his hoodie open a little and revealing a block of beige looking material. Elektra's eyebrows raised slightly. Luke looked down at the material with a smirk. "Should we can see what kind of punch this C-4 really packs?"

 _0-0-0_

Foggy let out a nervous chuckle. "Remind me never to play you in a game of poker. I still can't believe you were able to convince Elektra that beige play-doh was a brick of C4."

As they laughed and joked about the situation, Matt decided to keep it to himself that he didn't think Elektra actually bought the lie. She was just biding her time until she came back. But. Matt decided for now he would take the win. There were other things cropping up around Hell's Kitchen and Matt knew he couldn't leave himself divided if he wanted to keep the city safe.

"So where's the stuff now?" Claire asked as she handed out a round of beers before sitting down next to Luke.

Matt took a sip from his bottle before he answered. "Safe," he assured everyone.

"And you think she'll stay gone?" Karen asked. Matt waited a little longer before answering that question. The secretary-turned-journalist always had been slightly more perceptive than she let on, and Matt had a feeling she knew that Elektra hadn't bought the lie either.

"She's gone for now," Matt finally responded.

"And if she comes back?"

"We'll deal with it."

"Together," Foggy added. Matt opened his mouth, but Foggy continued talking. "Don't even try to tell us no. We're not leaving you again."

"I just don't want anyone else to get hurt because of her," Matt said.

"We're big kids," Karen argued. "We can take care of ourselves."

"Don't worry about us," Claire added, her arm still wrapped in Luke's. The large man nodded in agreement.

Matt let a small smile cross his face. For the first time in what felt like eons, he was surrounded by friends.

"We should probably get going though," Foggy said as he checked his watch. Everyone agreed, and they stood up. Claire and Luke walked Foggy, Karen, and Matt over to the door.

As the three of them walked down the steps and over to Karen's car, Foggy and Karen walked on either side of Matt.

"Are you guys sure you want to be a part of this?" Matt asked.

"You've got friends, Murdock," Foggy said as he clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Like it or not."

"And you can't get rid of us that easy," Karen replied, wrapping her arm around his.

"Don't get us wrong," Foggy continued as they began walking. "We're still pissed about the whole 'running off to Midland Circle' thing you pulled with Luke and Jessica, but man." All the joking went out of Foggy's voice. "When I thought you were dead, it felt like a huge part of me had died. And it was the worst feeling I've ever had."

"Same," Karen agreed.

"So yes. We're sure. We're with you in this buddy. This, and everything else. And that includes whatever you want to do with your mother."

"Yeah, what _are_ you going to do about that?" Karen asked. Matt sighed as he thought about Sister Margaret. She had gone back to Lady of Grace about an hour before, with a soft request that her son stay in contact with her. Matt sighed.

"I don't know yet. I can't … I can't just forgive her for what she did, but … "

"She is still your mom?" Karen supplied softly as they all got into her car.

"Yeah. Something like that."

"Like I said," Foggy chimed in. "We're with you. Whatever you want to do."

"Thanks, guys." Matt knew that nothing in their lives was ever going to be the same again, and they could never get back to the relationship they had before everyone found out who he was, but maybe, just maybe, they could do what Matt and Foggy had agreed to so long ago: Start from here, and work their way forward. Take things one day at a time. That was really all anyone was ever able to do.

 _ **Okay ... thoughts? Like I said, I know this is probably the worst chapter in the story, but I just was having such a hard time with it. Please don't hate me XD I do have another DD story I'm working on (though who knows if you guys would actually want to read it after reading this chapter), but I don't know when it will even be sort of ready to post. Just let me know what you thought of this story!**_

 _ **Just remember please, constructive criticism builds, flames just destroy.**_


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